


Stranger Things have Happened

by Rattlesnake



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M, Multi, POV Multiple, Plotty, Rickyl, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rattlesnake/pseuds/Rattlesnake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is determined to find his cousins Connor and Murphy in Boston and Rick can't leave Daryl behind ever again. When they find a stranger on the road, hurt, wounded and in need of help, things start to get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Encounters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [senema](https://archiveofourown.org/users/senema/gifts).



> After Daryl rejoined the group of Rick, Carl and Michonne the four decided not to got to Terminus but to make for Canada. At the beginning of this fic we find them close to Boston.

Daryl was anxious. Rick could tell by the way his shoulders were set, his neck muscles strained. Daryl was swaying slightly. His eyes found Rick’s, then immediately darted away again. “They’re family.”

Rick watched him intently, hands on his hips. Then he nodded once. “I understand. Really, Daryl. I do. I know what this means to you.” He took one step forward and put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl didn’t pull away which was a good sign. “But you can’t even be sure it’s them.”

“’s them alright. Similar looks. Same posture. Dark coats and glasses. Good shots.” 

“Could still be coincidence.” 

Daryl’s head was bowed but his eyes found Rick’s. “The Tattoos? Veritas? Aequitas? Hell of a coincidence.” His voice was a low drawl, raspy. “I just know. Gotta find ‘em. Don’t make me choose.” He clutched his crossbow tightly.

Rick patted his shoulder. “No. Not again.” He sighed and gave up. This wasn’t an argument he really wanted to win. He understood Daryl too well. “It’s important to you. We’ll look for them. We’ll find them.”

Daryl’s body relaxed fractionally. He nodded and then moved away in the direction of the bike he’d found on the road and decided to ride. Not a Harley this time but a Yamaha. Less noisy.

Rick’s shoulders dropped. He rubbed his forehead. There was no other way. He couldn’t leave Daryl behind. Couldn’t lose him again. Even if that meant looking for a needle in a haystack with him.

Michonne stepped up to him, her dark knowing eyes following Daryl. “What was that about?”

“Those two guys in Boston the group of survivors told us about. He’s sure they’re his cousins.”

Michonne frowned. “That would be hell of a coincidence. You don’t believe him do you?”

Rick shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. He’s got evidence. And if they’re indeed his relatives I’m not surprised they’re still alive.”  
“So you told him we’d look for them?”

Rick put a hand to the nape of his neck. Nodded.

“You’re really gonna put Carl through this? We need to get to Canada. There’s a real chance we might find some peace there. Find a home for your kid.”

Rick winced internally. Carl needed a place to stay, a place to relax again, let down his guard. He was starting to lose everything that still made him a child and Rick saw it slipping away. Still he didn’t see another way. “We need Daryl.”

“At least set him an ultimatum. A week.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

*

Rick frowned. “So you’re saying they’re clearing out part of Boston almost all by themselves?”

“Yeah man.” The old guy in front of them took another swig from the bottle of beer Rick had offered him. They’d found him outside his trailer just off the road and asked him about Boston. “s’what I tell you. The Saints is what they’re calling them. They’re doing a hell of a fucking good job in that city. Got a part of it almost Walker free. There’s a kind of community in the Irish quarter.”

Daryl was standing next to Rick, all strained and alert. He didn’t say anything but Rick knew what he was thinking. He was sure he’d found his cousins.  
“Do they have a group of gunmen or something?” Rick asked. 

The old men shook his head. “Just the two of ‘em. But worth ten the way I hear it.” He threw the can away. “Got another one of those beers?” Daryl grabbed the backpack and handed him another can. 

“What are their names?”

“Only ever heard them being called the saints.” The guy took another swig. “Kinda fits if y’ask me.”

Rick turned his head and looked at Daryl. “Doesn’t sound as if they’re gonna be too hard to find.”

Daryl’s lips twitched. “Yeah. Just follow the trail of dead.”

*

Later that night in the house they had taken up camp in they had another discussion around the dinner table. Dinner consisted of a few squirrels Daryl had shot earlier that day. They had roasted them over an open fire and shared the little meat there was. 

“It’s dangerous to enter a town. You know that”, Michonne said. She was polishing her Katana with a leather cloth. “We’re gonna put our lives at risk. There’s a reason we’ve always avoided big cities.”

“Could split up”, Daryl said, his gaze lowered. “Could go alone. Meet you guys later.” Daryl was leaning back in his chair, both feet on the table, but despite his comfortable pose there was still no denying the tension in his body. 

“No way.” Rick put both hands on the table. “We’re staying together. No more splitting up.”

“We should all go”, Carl said, eyeing Daryl. “Doesn’t make sense to discuss this. They’re Daryl’s family. Probably the last he has.”

Daryl didn’t look up from the arrow he was twirling between his fingers, searching for mistakes, for imperfections. ‘He doesn’t know if we’ll support him’, Rick thought. After all he’s done for us he’s still not sure if we’d do the same for him. He’s afraid we won’t give him enough time to look for Connor and Murphy.

“Carl’s right”, Rick said. “We’ll take as long as you need, Daryl.”

Daryl’s gaze flickered up to him. “Thanks. Won’t need long. I know them. I’ll find ‘em.”

“When was the last time you saw them?” Carl asked, apparently excited about Daryl’s cousins. He was almost smiling. And he was right, Rick thought. This was a good thing. 

“Couple of years ago”, Daryl said. “They used to visit sometimes. We’d go hunt together. Never got to visit them in Boston, though. Always wanted to before the world went to shit.”

“Were you close?”

“Didn’t get to see them too often, but they’re good guys. Can’t believe I didn’t even think of ‘em. Ah just thought they’d be gone like everyone else.” Daryl’s voice was very low.

“I understand”, Rick said. “I never really thought about my brother. Didn’t want to, really. I mean what are the chances -” He didn’t finish his sentence but closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with one hand. He got so tired nowadays. So damn tired of it all. Especially when thinking about whom they’d lost. He didn’t want to go there right now. Sometimes it still felt as if there was nothing left but death in the world. He had to remind himself that Carl was still with him. Michonne had found them. And Daryl. Daryl had come back. And that still meant everything. He looked up and found Daryl watching him. He looked away immediately, concentrating on his arrow again but Rick knew that Daryl was worried about him. They probably all were. Couldn’t afford him losing it again. And he wouldn’t. He owed them that much. “I’m glad your cousins are alive.” He said. “We needed something like that.”

*

“Is he dead?” Carl asked when they stepped out of the house the next morning and found the body on the patio.

“Nah, he’s breathing”, Daryl said. “Probably got bit.” He raised one hand to make Carl stay back. Rick exchanged a look with Daryl, then he knelt down and turned the body over. It was a young man. He was bleeding from his nose and a nasty looking wound on his temple. His white shirt was blood-stained. He had short blond hair, stubbles and rather pretty features. His parted lips were full and his face was lightly freckled. Rick slapped him lightly on the cheek and the man opened his eyes. They were of a brownish green and the pupils seemed dilated, yet his gaze wasn’t hazy like that of people close to dying and turning. 

“Who are you?” Rick asked. “Were you bit?”

“Bit?” The man groaned and looked at him as if he seriously didn’t understand. His brow furrowed as he slowly let his eyes wander and took in his surroundings. “Where am I?” he asked, trying to sit up. A crossbow was immediately pointed at him as well as a Katana. 

Rick looked up and raised one hand to calm the others down. “You’re close to Boston. How’d you get on our porch?”

The man put one hand to his forehead, obviously in pain. “Not sure. I don’t remember. What is this? Purgatory again?”

Daryl snorted. “Guess you could say that.”

“Hell?”

“Close enough.” Michonne said.

“Are you telling me you have absolutely no idea where you are and what’s going on?” Rick asked.

“Of course I have an idea”, the young man said, defensively. “Or at least I’m gonna find out pretty soon. I’m good at figuring stuff out.” He eyed Rick and the others suspiciously.

“What’s your name?” Carl asked. “Do you remember?”

“Damn sure I remember”, the man said, almost defensively. “It’s Dean. Son of a bitch, I have to find Sam.” He got up on his elbows. “Sam! Sammy!”

Michonne’s Katana was close to his neck immediately. “Quiet, you’re gonna attract walkers.” 

“Walkers, huh?” Dean said, moving back from the touch of steel to his skin. “Now that’s new.”

“Why, what do you call them?” Rick asked.

“Depends on what you’re talking about.”

The group exchanged looks. There was obviously something very wrong with the man. He seemed harmless enough however. 

“Look, have you got any weapons on you?” Rick asked. “You’re gonna need them.”

Dean pulled out a Colt 1911. “Yep. Still got it with me. My knife too.”

“Careful with that”, Daryl warned, indicating the gun. “Put it away man.”

Dean acquiesced and then began to sit up slowly. It was obvious that he was feeling light-headed from the head-wound.

“He’ll die if we leave him here”, Rick said.

Dean snorted. “Don’t be too sure about that. I’ve survived quite some shit. Gotta find my brother, though. He needs looking after.”

“We can’t take him”, Michonne said. “Too dangerous.” Daryl nodded in agreement.

“It’s not right”, Carl said and the others looked at him. “It’s inhumane, leaving people behind. Wounded, confused.”

“Hey kid, I’m not confused”, Dean said. “I’m just a bit out of it, okay?”

“It’s not right”, Carl repeated. “I’d be dead if Hershel hadn’t taken us in. I don’t want Dean to die.”

“Look kid, I’m probably better off without you freaks.” Dean was trying to get up and failing miserably. “I’m not good with groups, you see. I’ll just find Sam and with a bit of luck Cas has his ears on and he’ll be here in no time and everything will be just peachy, got me?”

“Yeah let’s take him”, Daryl said, shouldering his crossbow. “He’s lost it but he’s harmless.”

“You mean that?” Rick asked, but Daryl had already turned around. “Walkers”, he said. And indeed, a not so small group of them was stumbling in their direction from the small grove near the house. The first went down with a bolt in his head.

Dean had managed to somehow pull himself up, clinging to the banister. “Interesting. What are they? Demons? Leviathans? Come on tell me, I don’t care.”

“We just call them walkers”, Carl explained while he watched Michonne making her way over to them and beheading two with one strike. 

“Nice”, Dean said. “I like a woman who can handle a sword.” Then he pulled his colt, shot down two walkers and collapsed onto the porch, unconscious.

*

“Was that the right thing to do?” Rick asked, watching the young man next to him on the backseat. He still hadn’t come to but was breathing steadily. Michonne was driving and Carl was riding shot gun as Rick hadn’t wanted him in the back with Dean. Daryl was right in front of them on his motorbike.

“If Daryl says it’s alright to take him it probably is”, Michonne said. “His instincts can be trusted. As can mine. And I don’t get a bad vibe from him. Though he’ll probably hold us up. Seems completely out of his mind, if you ask me.”

“Can happen to everyone in a situation like this” Carl said, eyeing his father in the rearview mirror. “He doesn’t deserve to die and he obviously can’t take care of himself.”

“Already told you that’s bullshit.” Dean opened one eye and winced. “Son of a bitch. You should have just left me there.” He bolted up. “What about Sammy? What if they sent him here, too? I gotta go back.”

“Relax, Dean”, Rick said. “You’ve got a nasty wound to your head. We’re looking for a pharmacy right now to get some bandages, antibiotics and Tylenol. Was there someone with you?”

“No, not really.” Dean sank back into his seat, his face rather pale. “I’m not sure Sam’s here. I’m not even sure who sent me. Lucifer? Crowley? Problem is you can never be sure with those bastards. Never know who’ll be first to stab you in the back.”

“Lucifer?” Rick frowned. Another bible reference. Was Dean some religious freak who thought this was the actual apocalypse?

“Doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t happen to know a way out of here, do you?” Dean sighed. “No probably not or you wouldn’t be here.”  
“True”, Rick said. “Listen Dean, where are you from?”

“Last time I checked I was somewhere in Kansas investigating a case of strange killings with my brother”, Dean said, rubbing his forehead.

“That’s quite a long way from Kansas to Massachusetts”, Rick said carefully. It was obvious that the man had suffered a severe case of memory loss. Rick asked himself if his brother was still alive. Maybe he’d lost him and hadn’t been able to deal with it. Traumatic stress would explain the bad state he was in. Apparently he wasn’t even aware of the walker situation after all.

“Man, I probably shouldn’t have told you a lot of the things I talked about before”, Dean said, leaning his head back against the headrest. “I was really out of it. I don’t even know you. I think I do have concussion.”

As far as Rick could see the guy was still very much out of it. And he hadn’t started making sense yet, so he probably shouldn’t be worried about anything he had told them. But Rick somehow didn’t think telling him that that would reassure him. “It’s okay, we’re not bad guys. You can talk to us.”

“You know how often my brother and I have heard those words in the past?” Dean asked. “Turns out almost everyone’s a bad guy.”

They were following Daryl into a small town on the outskirts of Boston. “Roxbury” Rick read on a road sign. Walkers immediately started to appear from out of shops and houses, but not an alarming number of them. Daryl stopped the bike, drew his crossbow and began taking them out one by one. 

“Those walker freaks creep me out”, Dean said, looking out of the window when Michonne parked the car right behind Daryl’s bike. “Really I’ve seen a lot of monsters and up to now the Leviathans were my least favorite. But those ugly bastards can hold their own.”

“Believe me, no one’s a big fan of them” Rick said and got out of the car, pulling his knife. No reason to attract more walkers with gun shots.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” Dean asked. 

“We took it”, Rick said, while Michonne was already on her way to the first group of walkers. “It’s no use here anyway. Noise attracts them. Use your knife and go for the head if they come close. You need to hit the brain. Carl, stay in the car.” He quickly walked towards the pharmacy that was just off the road, taking out two walkers on his way. Daryl followed after him, putting arrows through two of the creatures that came out of the pharmacy.

Dean got out of the car, but had to hold on to the door in order to keep on his feet. “Look, I appreciate you taking me, but I really need my gun”, he called after them. “I feel kinda naked without it.”

Rick threw a backward glance at him. “You’ll have to earn our trust first.”

*

“Shit.” Dean slumped back onto his car seat. He decided that it was probably better not to get into a fight before his head stopped swimming with every damn movement. The lady with the sword was heading back to them and he had to say he was rather thankful not to be left alone with the boy. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the monsters in this world. And he didn’t have his gun.

The boy had turned around in his seat to look at him. Dean saw that he was holding a gun in his hand. “Hey, you’ll be alright with us”, he said with a small smile. “I’m Carl by the way. I know Daryl and Michonne can seem a bit scary at first but they’re pure gold. And my dad would never let you down now.”  
“I’m sure, kid.” Dean said, closing his eyes. The headache was killing him and he felt nauseous. He wouldn’t be able to reach Cas like this. He had to be able to concentrate to get through to him.

“They’ll protect you once they’ve decided to keep you around.”

“Told you. I don’t need protecting.” But Dean’s voice sounded so small even to his own ears that he thought he was probably not very convincing. He made an effort not to seem too weak. “Can you tell me more about those walkers?” 

Carl looked at him inquiringly as if he really couldn’t believe that Dean didn’t know anything about them. “Look”, Dean said. “I honestly just got here. Isn’t the first time this has happened to me and believe me, I’ve even had it worse. Just tell me what I need to know.”

“They’re dead people coming back to live”, Carl explained. 

“Oh”, Dean said. “You mean like zombies?”

Carl frowned. “Never heard that term.”

“Don’t you watch TV? Dawn of the dead ring a bell?” But then the kid was probably too young to watch that kind of stuff. “Never mind. Call them what you want. They’re nothing new to me then. We’ve taken out quite a few, me and my little brother.”

“You have?” Carl was surprised now. “I thought you said you’d just arrived.”

“Yeah, but there were zombies where I came from. Different kinds even. Croats, Leviathan zombies, Thule zombies. Ugly motherfuckers. But nothing new. Worse than vampires, though.”

Carl nodded. He had never heard of the terms Dean was throwing around and he was surprised to hear him talk about vampires. After living through an apocalypse this couldn’t really shock him, though. Who said that Dean couldn’t come from a place where vampires existed? However, he was still more inclined to believe that Dean had lost his mind.

“What I don’t understand is why are there so many of them?” Dean asked. “Does Lucifer have anything to do with this?”

Carl shrugged. “No idea. No one knows. But people turn when they die.”

“You mean everyone?”

“Yeah.”

“Man, that sucks.” Dean really had to find a way out of this. He watched as Michonne finished off a group of walkers closing in on the car. More were coming. They obviously didn’t have much time left. “We need to get moving”, he said. “Where are we headed anyway?”

“Boston”, Carl explained. “Daryl is looking for his cousins.”

At that moment Dean saw Rick and Daryl exiting the pharmacy. Rick came first, knife drawn, backpack slung over one shoulder. Daryl followed him, making sure none of the creatures had a chance to get close to them. He also collected his bolts from their heads on the way back. Dean had to admire his level-headedness. Michonne got behind the steering wheel and started the car. Dean moved over so that Rick didn’t have to go round the car. Daryl shot two more walkers that were in the way, slung his bow over his shoulder and started the bike. They followed him down the street and it was fucking high time because when Dean looked behind him there was quite a crowd of dead people crawling up the street. 

“Want some pills for your headache now?” Rick asked. “We got Tylenol and Norflex. You should also take these antibiotics.” Rick rummaged around in the backpack and handed him both packages along with a bottle of high-calcium mineral water. “We also got bandages and iodine. We’ll stop as soon as we get out of here to take care of your wound.” 

“Thanks”, Dean said. It seemed as if he hadn’t fallen into the worst crowd possible this time. He actually found himself relaxing the tiniest bit. Tonight he would try to reach Cas and hope that he would hear him. He took three Norflex and the antibiotics with a few gulps of water and prayed that they would help.

They stopped next to a field where the territory was easy to overlook. Daryl went hunting and Michonne kept watch, while Rick took care of Dean’s head wound. The iodine stung but that was nothing he wasn’t used to. Still he would have preferred Castiel’s gentle touch. Rick did his best though and he seemed to know what he was doing. Dean found that he looked rather silly when he eyed himself in the rearview mirror with a bandage around his head. But it was probably for the best. 

They drove a few more miles and took shelter for the night in one of the houses in the outskirts. They all stayed in the same room and locked it securely. Dean found a place to sleep on a soft rug and Daryl even brought them some blankets after inspecting the house. Dean pulled his cover close around him as the night promised to get cold. He watched while Carl lay down to sleep on the couch and Rick made a bed of two blankets for himself right in front of it. Michonne chose one of the armchairs to sleep in. Daryl took first watch near the window. He was quite close to Dean, crossbow on his knees and Dean felt strangely secure considering he hardly knew these people. But he knew for sure that he couldn’t trust them yet. Even if he wanted to. He needed to stay alert.

As soon as it got dark, he closed his eyes and began his silent prayer. His lips were moving and he reached out to Cas with all his heart. “Hope you got your ears on, Cas”, he whispered underneath his breath. “I need you man. Please come in. I’ve lost Sammy. I need you to find him. I have no idea where I am. You know this praying stuff’s still not for me so please don’t make me beg for too long.” He opened one eye and looked around the darkened room but the familiar figure in the trench coat hadn’t appeared. 

He wondered if their connection just didn’t work from here or if it wasn’t in Castiel’s powers to come to him. His grace wasn’t what it used to be. Just like their bond. Maybe he simply didn’t want to come for him. He sighed and closed his eyes again. “Look. I understand if you’re not coming. I know we haven’t been on best of terms lately. But for all my prayers are still worth to you, Cas, take care of Sammy if you can. I don’t know if he’s here or back in Kansas. I don’t know what happened. So please…”

“Who’re you talking to?” Daryl asked.

Dean hadn’t noticed that his voice had become louder. It always helped him to talk out loud if he was trying to call Cas to his side, but in this case that really hadn’t been a good move. He felt a little embarrassed. After all, the group already thought that he was batshit crazy. No need to prove it to them.

“Just to someone I know”, he whispered.

“No need to be ashamed”, Daryl said. “Ah talk to my brother sometimes. Helps.”

Dean turned over so that he could face Daryl. “Where’s your brother?”

“Gone.” Daryl looked out of the window. “Lost him.”

“Miss him much?”

Daryl was silent for a moment. “Hmh.”

“I gotta find mine. If he’s here I don’t want him to be alone.”

“You talk to him just now?”

Dean shook his head. “To a friend of mine who can help me find him. Maybe. If he answers.”

“Good luck.”

Despite feeling exhausted, Dean couldn’t sleep. He tried to reach Castiel once again and when that didn’t work he spent the time worrying about Sam. He felt as if he’d lost some of his memories. The last thing he clearly remembered was being next to Sam in the Impala, driving down a dark road in Kansas. He didn’t remember where they’d been going. What if Sam was really here? What if he’d left him behind when this group had taken him? He groaned. 

Daryl got up and found two pills and the bottle of water for him. Dean took them thankfully and his headache lessened but the Norflex didn’t help with his sleeping problems. He lay still however and watched Daryl from under half closed eyelids. It calmed him somehow.

About two hours later Rick got up from his place by the couch and quietly went over to Daryl, putting a hand on his shoulder. “My turn. You can sleep now.”  
“’m not that tired”, Daryl said. “I wouldn’t have woken you up.”

“I know”, Rick said. “That’s why I’m glad my inner clock’s still working or you’d never get any sleep. Lie down now.”  
Daryl obeyed with a soft grunt and Dean watched him make his bed near the couch, while Rick sat down in the chair, pistol and knife on the table in front of him. Minutes later he heard soft snoring from the direction of the couch and sleep finally came over him like a dark blanket.

*

Dean was raised rather brutally when Michonne was shaking his shoulder. He woke with a start and felt a sharp pain in his temple making him moan.  
“Get up!” Michonne said. “Herd coming in. We’re being surrounded.”

Dean struggled to become more awake. “Castiel”, he whispered automatically. “Cas, please…” he felt disoriented and when he got up, nausea hit him again.  
“C’mon, gotta go.” Daryl put an arm around him, dragging him forward. 

“Hurry!” Rick was grabbing the backpack, slung it over his back and grabbed Carl’s shoulder, pulling the boy who was also only half awake with him.  
Michonne was the first to open the door and step out. “Let’s hope we’re not trapped yet.”

The cool night air was a shock for Dean, but it also made him more awake. Clinging to Daryl, he managed a look around. He heard sounds now. Moaning and clicking and dragging footsteps on the grassy ground. But he couldn’t see anything in the dark. 

Daryl pulled a knife, because dragging Dean along didn’t allow him to use the bow. “Only some of them are close”, he said calmly. “We’re gonna make it to the car.”  
Dean struggled to stand on his own so as not to be a drawback for the group but the ground beneath his feet felt so wobbly and the scenery was spinning around him in circles. Then the boy was next to him. “I got him. I’ll take him to the car.”

He had to lean heavily on Carl who pulled him out into the night apparently fearless. Dean looked up in the direction they were going, trying his best to stumble along. He saw that they were heading directly towards two walkers who were between them and the car. He wanted to warn the boy but his ears were ringing now and he needed all his strength to stay upright. Just before they reached the foul creatures however they were both taken down by arrows, shot mere seconds apart. And now Michonne was next to them, so nothing could get close anymore. 

Dean leant against the car while Carl opened the door and they both scrambled inside. “You okay?” Carl asked, looking at him worriedly. Dean nodded, trying not to throw up. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d had concussion before and this felt worse. What if there was serious damage to his brain? What if he was really imagining things?

Michonne and Rick got into the car two minutes later and he heard the sound of Daryl’s motorbike starting that was already familiar to him. “Isn’t that dangerous?” he asked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “What if he’s surrounded?”

Rick turned around to face him. “He knows what he’s doing. I’m more worried about you right now. You’re white as a sheet.”

“’m fine”, Dean managed and tried to make his head stop spinning. What the hell was wrong with him? He was getting worse. He really needed Cas.


	2. The Saints

“And Shepherds we shall be  
For thee, my Lord, for thee.“

Murphy felt his brother’s back pressed against his own while they were saying their prayer. The prayer that had never left them and gave them strength in the days of doom they were now facing. Humans were no longer their most dangerous enemy, not even the worst of them, but another plague had come to haunt the earth and once more they had heeded their call. This was what they were needed for now and they’d set out to free their city from the menace that had come upon it. They were fulfilling god’s will. 

“Power hath descended forth  
from Thy hand  
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.  
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee  
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.  
In Nomine Patri Et Fili Et Spiritus Sancti.”

They finished their prayer and moved in a slow circle in perfect harmony, taking out all of the walkers that came towards them, drawn by the gunshots. They were positioned in the center of Old Colony Avenue in South Boston, facing in both directions, arms outstretched. Murphy felt Connor dropping his gun and pulling out the next one, fully loaded, from the holster around his torso. Murphy was moving almost simultaneously with his twin. This was when life was best, when his brother was close to him and he could feel his movements and anticipate them as if they were his own. Their shots rang out to the grey sky, echoing from the surrounding walls, drawing more of the creatures toward them, out in the open where they could deal with them. Walker after walker fell to the ground after perfect headshots. Murphy smiled.

The place was clear. Both of them let their arms sink, dropped their heads and stood completely still for a moment in silent prayer. Then they looked around once more to make sure no others were coming. Their numbers were rising too fast. That was the biggest problem. As soon as they’d cleared out a place they were back again before they could secure it. Still, they’d managed to take a good part of Old Colony Avenue by now, including their own house. The people living here found relative peace as long as they watched out for any possible deaths among their own ranks.  
Both brothers relaxed and turned to face each other with similar grins. 

“We’re fuckin’ awesome”, Murphy said, fumbling for his lighter. 

Connor smacked him over the head. “Ye can smoke later, c’mon, gotta secure this place.”

“Fuck you”, Murphy growled, rubbing the back of his head. He lit the cigarette anyway and put it between his lips, following Connor. The material for the traps was already laid out. Barbed wire always worked well, as did spears of wood. Simple, but the fucking thangs never failed to impale themselves on them. The whole street was filled with those kinds of traps up to here and every morning they went out to take down the trapped walkers. It was unbelievable how many of them there were.  
They worked together, putting up more traps, watching the first walkers stumble into them and made sure they held. It would take some time but they were planning on taking the street back for the living. And after that the whole of South Boston. Today had been a fucking good day, because they’d managed to secure a grocery store, which still held stocks. They wouldn’t need to take out walkers anymore every time they went there on a supply run.

“C’mon let’s see if there’s any booze left and head back”, Murphy said. “’s getting’ dark.”

Connor nodded. They would clear out the adjoining houses tomorrow; see if there were any of those poor ugly bastards trapped inside. And then new arrivals could move in there if they wanted to. There were still new people coming, if less frequently.

Their people greeted them with shouts of joy when they entered McGinty’s. Their favourite pub had been the first area they’d freed from walkers after their own house. There were fewer guests than before the beginning of this mess of course and the jukebox wasn’t working anymore, but the mood in the evenings was still almost the same. This was a place to forget, a place to rejoice for being alive. People were even playing instruments. Tonight there were a fiddle, a banjo and a bodhram, performing one of their favorite folk tunes: “The Blood of Cuchulainn”. 

Murphy raised his hands above his head in triumph, waving the bottle of whiskey he had brought from the shop. Connor put a bag on the counter for Doc and the bottles inside clinked together which led to cheers from the other guests. 

“That’s my fucking boys!” Doc said and slammed down two pints of Guinness in front of Connor. The glasses were so full the froth was running over.  
Aiden and Niall slapped Connor on the shoulder. “Everything went well?”

“Fuckin’ perfect”, Connor said, shoving one mug of beer over to Murphy who had joined him at the bar. Then he raised his own. They clinked glasses and drank. “We’ll have more room for ye all soon.”

He smiled at his brother and Murphy put a cigarette between Connor’s lips, lighting it for him.  
“To the saints!” Dylan called out and glasses were raised. Murphy saw Fiona, a pretty redhead who had just arrived with her father and brother give Connor her sweetest smile. Connor’s gaze was still glued to Murphy however.

“Take out a whole fuckin’ bunch of’em fuckin’ creepers again?” Doc asked.

Murphy took a drag from his cigarette. “I sure did. Connor might’ve hit one or two by accident ‘f ah remember correctly.” He grinned at his brother.  
“Little fucker”, Connor said, taking a deep swig from his Guinness. “There’s times I wish for those few moments ah was alone on this earth wi’out the annoyin’ brat my little brother is.” He was smiling, but Murphy had already launched at him, throwing him off his barstool. The crowd cheered when a fight between the two brother erupted and Murphy inwardly rejoiced with them. There was nothing like a good fight with his brother after a hard day’s work. He pinned Connor to the ground and straddled him, his eyes shining when he saw his brother’s wide grin. “Ye were never on this earth wi’out me. Ah was already waitin’ when you came out.”

“Dream on little brother.” Connor threw him off and rolled them around so that Murphy was now under him. “I started changing your diapers the moment you were born.” The crowd had gathered around them and Murphy was laughing, struggling to get free. Connor wasn’t stronger than him, no way. But his brother knew how to handle him. He got one hand free after all and grabbed Connor’s hair, pulling his head back.

“Ow! Murph, you fuckin’ fight like a girl!” Connor exclaimed, but he was distracted long enough that Murphy could wriggle free. He managed to move backwards a few feet. Then Connor attacked again, grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against the wall. They were soon engaged in a wrestling battle, neither managing to get the upper hand anymore.

A few punches and bruises later they collapsed at the bar side by side and had another drink. It wasn’t before midnight that they finally helped each other round the corner and up the stairs to their flat. Sure, they could have picked another place to live by now, there were enough of them in the surrounding houses that didn’t have occupants anymore. But what for? They were used to sleeping in the same room. No need to change that. Showers and toilets weren’t working anymore anyway. All they needed was a bed to collapse on. As a payback for their work during the day the others kept watch in the nights so they were almost always able to sleep soundly. Unless there was an emergency of course.

Connor just about managed to drop his guns and pull off his peacoat, boots and shirt. He fell on the bed still dressed in Jeans and socks.  
“Man you need to get new socks”, Murphy said. “Those are fuckin’ filthy.”

“Don’t care” Connor said, spreading out on the bed. 

Murphy undressed thoroughly before he collapsed on top of his brother. He spread his limbs so he was covering almost every inch of Connor. He whispered in his brother’s ear.

“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.  
He makes me lie down in green pastures.”  
Connor’s voice joined Murphy’s for the next verses.  
“He leads me beside still waters.  
He restores my soul.  
He leads me in paths of righteousness  
for his name's sake.”

*

“He’s clearly getting worse”, Michonne said, looking at Dean in the rearview mirror. Rick had to agree. The boy was feverish. He hadn’t been awake for hours now and he seemed delusional. Sometimes he whispered the name “Castiel”, sometimes he called out for his brother. Rick felt sorry for him and he was almost sure that Dean wouldn’t make it. They didn’t know what ailed him. Once again he really missed Hershel. He was holding a wet cloth to Dean’s brow but it didn’t seem to help him. He almost wished now that they hadn’t taken him with them, because he didn’t want Carl to see him dying. His boy had been through enough already. And Carl had somehow taken a liking to Dean.

“We won’t be able to venture into the city with him”, Michonne said, keeping her eyes on the road. They’d passed a herd of walkers earlier and Rick, Michonne and Daryl had been forced to get out of the car and clear the way. 

“I’m going alone with Daryl”, Rick said quietly. “You stay with Carl and Dean.”

Carl looked at him and nodded. Rick was glad. He had expected protest from his son but then Carl wanted Daryl to find his cousins.  
“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “You said no more parting.”

“We don’t have a choice. And it’s also safer for Carl.” It was true. He trusted Michonne with his son. He just knew she wouldn’t let anything happen to him.  
They stopped at a gas station just outside of town. Rick tried the pump and there was actually some gas left. Daryl got some cans of water from the shop. He threw Carl a bar of chocolate and the boy managed a week smile.

“All clear”, Daryl said. “You stay here. Take shelter in the shop if you need to.” 

He went over to an abandoned SUV and got in. He was going to short-circuit it. They needed a car to get into the city.

Rick cleared his throat, looking at Michonne. “Stay here if possible. If not we’ll meet on the highway to the north, right behind the exit to Boston.”

“What about Dean? Do you think he should lie down?” Carl was now sitting next to the young man in the backseat, pressing the cloth to his head. “He also needs to drink something.”

“You can try”, Rick said. “Just keep a close eye on him, okay?” He exchanged a look with Michonne and saw that she knew what he meant. Rick didn’t think that he would see Dean alive again.

The SUV roared to life. “Let’s go!” Daryl said. Rick nodded but went over to the car first. Carl scrambled out and gave him a hug. Rick was glad. It was still sometimes difficult between him and his son. They were on better terms but he knew that Carl was still testing the ground around him. It almost felt as if he didn’t want to let his father get too close to him for fear of losing him. Rick stroked his hair and pulled him close for a few seconds. Then he let go and went over to the SUV. He jumped into the passenger seat next to Daryl.  
“South Boston, right?”  
Daryl nodded.

*

Murphy felt a sharp pain on his right wrist, as if the skin was being ripped off. Nothing had happened to him to cause an injury and he turned around to Connor, alarmed. Connor was clutching his right hand the look of pain on his face mirrored by Murphy. “Damn wire.”

“Told ya ta be careful.” Murphy went over to him, to examine the injury. “Yer bleeding. Gotta fix you up.”

“It’s nothing. Just put a band aid on it.”

They had been cleaning out the houses they’d secured yesterday, setting up barbed wire at the entrances. They opened every door and took out all the walkers that were locked in somewhere. They had cleared this house already and were just preparing the wire traps when Connor had got hurt. Murphy was still holding his brother’s wrist in his hand. “We should head back to the pub. This needs proper dressing. Fuckers smell blood. Makes ‘em go wild. Ya know that.”  
Connor nodded. He knew that his brother was right. Even though it was annoying to be held up like this.

Both turned their head when a shot rang out from the direction of their house and the pub. Murphy let go of Connor’s wrist and pulled his Beretta. “Damn, did someone turn?”

Connor also drew his gun. “Maybe a walker got in.”

They started running in the direction of the shot at the same time, whispering the same silent prayer under their breath.

*

Rick looked up at the skyscrapers that seemed like the decaying teeth of a giant in the dead city. Daryl was driving the SUV and Rick sat beside him, holding his gun in his lap, watching out for every kind of movement on the streets. They had had to turn around a few times already and find other ways, because some streets were swarming with walkers. As they were drawn by noise they often traveled in packs that moved in the same direction. The noise of the car attracted them.  
Rick was tense in his seat and Daryl’s strained shoulders told him that the other man felt the same way, even though he seemed outwardly calm as always. Rick was reminded of the first time he’d ridden into Atlanta on horseback, still hopeful and not in the least prepared for what was expecting him. He wondered if he was still too naïve. Entering this town was dangerous and he didn’t even know if there was still a clear way back for them. Maybe they were already trapped. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw a small group of the foul creatures emerge from a broken shop window. They stumbled out on the street, tearing their limbs on the shards, following their car with empty eyes and outstretched arms. Rick asked himself if he would ever get used to the look of them. Then he noticed that while they still repulsed him, he didn’t feel the absolute dread that had overcome him in the beginning whenever he’d faced them. Things had changed. And he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“They don’t creep me out like they used to anymore”, he said.

Daryl shot him a look. “Still ugly as hell, though.”

Rick nodded. “I never want to get used to them.”

“Trust me you won’t. They’re just not meant to be here. We’ll always find them repulsive.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Daryl pulled into another street and a mass of moving dead bodies was waiting for them. Deformed faces with dislodged jaws and lolling eyeballs turned their way. Teeth clicked, putrescent hands stretched out in their direction and Rick could hear the familiar gurgling and moaning noises. The walkers crept in their direction in their dreadful staccato movements. 

“Why, fuck.” Daryl stopped the car and Rick looked at him. “Is there another way to the Irish quarter?” he asked.

“No.” Daryl’s voice was very quiet but Rick knew him well enough to hear the desperation in it. “There’s no other way.”

Rick pulled his knife. “We’ll just have to fight our way through them then.” He started to get out of the car but felt Daryl’s hand on his arm, stopping him. “Can’t put you in danger like this. Your boy’s waiting. We’re going back.”

*

“Thirteen shots!” Connor called to his twin who was running right next to him. “That’s a gunfight. What’s going on?”

“A herd got through?”

“But we checked the traps this morning.”

“We’ll see. Just go!”

They arrived at McGinty’s and Connor pushed the door open. They entered at the same time, guns drawn, checking both sides of the room, back to back. The pub was empty, apart from the dead bodies that were scattered everywhere. Aiden had collapsed next to the jukebox, Niall was on the floor, Anna and Saoirse had been shot when they were trying to leave the pub through the back door. Doc was sprawled out on the bar, blood dripping to the floor. They were all dead but none of them had been shot in the head.

“No”, Murphy whispered. “What happened?” He looked around as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, then turned to his brother. 

Connor didn’t understand either. Couldn’t get his head around what had taken place here. This was the doing of people, that much was clear. But who would deliberately kill harmless humans in a time like this?

“I… I don’t know.” Connor swallowed hard. This was a massacre. Someone had come here to destroy everything they’d built. Everything they’d lived to protect. Their friends were dead. Everyone was dead. 

“Connor”, his brother whispered and Connor reached out to put a hand on Murphy’s arm. He still had his brother. That’s what he had to remember.  
Another shot was fired from above their heads and they both looked up.

“It’s them.” Connor clutched Murphy’s arm. “The mobsters. They’ve come back to destroy us.”

Murphy nodded. “They’re on the roof, still killin’ people. Waiting fer us to show up.”

Connor and Murphy exchanged a look. It was clear that they probably wouldn’t get out of this alive if they went up there. Connor held Murphy’s gaze for a second. Then they both nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Wait. What about the bodies?” Murphy asked. “They’ll come back. Can’t jus’ leave them like this.”

Connor closed his eyes for a second, touched Murphy’s shoulder. “We need to save our bullets. I’m sorry, Murph.”

“Let’s just take ‘em out with knives.”

Another shot echoed from above. 

“We don’t have time”, Connor said and headed in the direction of the stairs. Murphy rammed his knife into Doc’s head and followed his brother up the narrow stairway.  
The brothers exchanged one more look. Then Connor was the first to step out on the roof, gun drawn. As he’d expected they were waiting for them. Six armed men, facing in their direction. They wore heavy coats and sunglasses. A young woman was kneeling in front of them, sobbing. Connor recognized Fiona. A gun was pointed at her head. More bodies were spread out on the roof. Apparently their whole community had been taken down, safe the one girl. Connor grasped his gun harder.  
“Let her go”, he said. “We’re here now.”

One of the men took a step towards them. “The Saints, indeed.” He was bearded and wore a wide grin. “Glad we finally meet. Drop your guns and move over to the edge. Or she dies.”

Connor and Murphy followed suit. Connor knew that they might have been able to take the men down, even if they were outnumbered. Wasn’t the first time. But they couldn’t save the girl if they did. He stood next to Murphy on the edge of the roof, arms raised.

The girl was looking at them, still crying. And then her face exploded because the man behind her pulled the trigger. Connor and Murphy cried out and almost launched at the man, but they were kept in check by six guns pointed at them.

“The famous Saints”, their leader said, lighting a cigarette. “Who’d believe what a major pain in the ass you both were before this all went to shit. Look at you now. Completely defenseless. Weren’t expecting this, right?”

Connor and Murphy were silent, glaring at him.

“”You know I was told you two are always protecting each other”, he said with a grin. “Will be fun to watch each of you while he sees his brother suffer. I’m looking forward to it. This’ll be nice and slow. Might even let one of you turn and eat the other. Would you like that?”

Connor gritted his teeth. How he wished for his gun now.

One of the dead bodies next to the men was starting to twitch. The man who’d shot the girl moved a step back. “Shit, they’re coming back.”

Connor knew that the man who was aiming his gun at Murphy was losing his nerve and was going to pull his trigger a second before the shot rang out. He just had time to move in front of his brother and take the bullet for him. It hit him in the side, ripping him apart, burning through his body like hellfire. He cried out and heard Murphy shout his name and he knew that the next bullet was going to finish him off. His knees buckled but he remained standing, to protect Murphy. He felt another sharp pain to his shoulder, but the bullet had only grazed his skin this time. 

Then he felt his brother’s arms around his body. Murphy was pulling him close, cradling his head to his neck. He pulled him backwards with him and then they were falling, falling and all Connor could think was that the pain would soon be over and that he was dying in his brother’s arms. 

After the impact he saw stars and was surprised that he was obviously still alive. They’d landed in a trash container on top of a load of old boxes and rugs. Murphy’s body had also protected him from the impact. Connor almost couldn’t think straight because of the raging pain in his side. The bullet still had to be in his body and he could feel it tearing him apart. The first thing he did was check for Murphy’s pulse, putting two fingers on his carotid artery and he thanked the lord when he found that his twin was unconscious but still alive. He had to get them out of here. He clutched Murphy tight and tried to sit up, but his body protested. His head was spinning and every bone was aching from the fall, not to mention the gun wound which was literally killing him. He looked up and saw the mobsters on the rooftop, silhouetted against the sky. One had his gun pointed at them and Connor took a deep breath, waiting for the shot to kill him. He put one hand to Murphy’s face, looking at him. His brother was what he wanted to see during his final moments on this earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is insane but I had fun writing it none the less. I don't really expect anyone to put up with this, but if you do, a review would be so much appreciated. :)


	3. Wounds

The next thing Connor knew was that a body fell to the ground next to them and when he looked up, an arrow was sticking out from the dead man’s head. It was one of the mobsters. “What the fuck…” Connor whispered, trying again to sit up.

Shots rang out and the men rained from the roof left and right. Someone must have come to save him and his brother. Connor tried his utmost to remain conscious, even though his vision was starting to blur. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was alive or already dead. And when he was carefully turned around and looked into Daryl’s face he was sure that he’d just passed away and gone to heaven. 

*

“Are they alive?” Rick asked, running over to Daryl, gun in hand, checking for any approaching walkers after their shots.

“Yeah. More or less.” Daryl said. “That was close. Gotta take them to the car.” He hoisted one of the brothers up. “Can you take Murphy?”

Rick nodded and pulled himself up on the container. The young man sprawled out there was apparently in his late twenties. His breathing was shallow and he was unconscious. Rick was touched when he realized how much he looked like a younger version of Daryl. He bent down to crouch next to him. “Hello Murphy”, he whispered, carefully lifting him up. “You’ll be alright.” 

It was difficult to clamber down from the container with a lifeless body, but he managed. He carried Murphy over to the car. He was surprised to see that Connor –weak as he was - was putting up a fight against Daryl, trying to get out of the car again. He must have been badly hurt by the fall after all. Rick had been sure they were too late when he’d seen the brothers fall from the roof of the building.

Daryl was holding Connor back. “Yeah, calm down, Rick’s just bringing him over.” He stepped to the side and Rick gently put Murphy on the backseat of the car, where Connor immediately put his arms around him, drawing him close.

Daryl looked at Rick. “They’ve always been very protective of each other”, he explained. “Can’t separate them.”

Rick nodded. “I kind of noticed.”

Daryl turned to Connor. “Yer bleedin’. Were you badly hit? Do we have to bandage you right now?”

Connor shook his head. “Les just go. They’re comin’.”

Rick saw that he was right. Walkers were starting to file out of the house and the adjoining street. They needed to leave now. 

Rick hurried to get into the passenger seat while Daryl started the car. A look in the rearview mirror showed him Connor and Murphy huddled together in the middle of the backseat. Murphy had regained consciousness. They were looking at each other and Rick couldn’t believe his eyes but they were actually smiling. Their smiles were weak and crooked but they were definitely visible. 

Murphy then opened Connor’s coat, ripped a piece from his own shirt and pressed it against the wound in Connor’s side. Connor grimaced in pain.  
“We’ll take care of you as soon as we’re able to stop”, Rick said.

“Don’t worry they’re tough little fuckers”, Daryl said.

“I can see that.” Rick turned around to Murphy. “Is your brother gonna be alright?”

“Yeah”, Murphy said. “He’s lost a lot of blood, though. Daryl, how in hell d’you find us?”

“Wasn’t too difficult. You two gun-monkeys have quite a reputation. I would’ve come for you sooner if I’d known you were alive. Seemed like you had a good thing going here.”

Connor moaned. “Yeah, before those fucking mobsters turned up and ripped it all to pieces. Damn.”

“Connor, just sit still”, Murphy chided before he turned back to Daryl. “What about Merle?”

Rick bit his lower lip and looked at Daryl whose gaze was directed to the street. Daryl took awhile before he answered. “He’s dead.”

Murphy and Connor exchanged a look. “Sorry”, they said in unison. Murphy put one hand to the back of Daryl’s seat. “I’m glad ya found us, though. We’d be done if ya hadn’t come lookin’ fer us. Thanks.”

At that moment Rick was really glad Daryl and he had decided to fight their way through the walkers after all.

*

“Damn, that fuckin’ hurts!” Connor was outstretched on a blanket on the ground in front of the gas station. Murphy had removed his brother’s coat and shirt and the clothes were piled up in a bloody heap beside them. Rick could see a black rosary resting on Connor’s firm chest, moving every time he twitched. Connor’s head was in Murphy’s lap and his left hand was desperately clutching Murphy’s arm. He had a piece of wood between his teeth and was clearly in agony. Rick could tell from the way he grimaced with pain. Murphy’s face however had the same tortured look and Rick had to ask himself if he could actually feel his brother’s anguish. It sure looked like it. Rick was sitting at Connor’s feet, holding his legs down so he couldn’t jerk away, while Daryl was trying to remove the bullet in his side with a pair of tweezers. Even though Rick once more wished for Hershel to be here, Daryl wasn’t half bad with bullet wounds. He said he’d tended to quite a few of them when he was still living with Merle who’d apparently gotten into a few gunfights.

“Hold still!” Daryl spat at Connor. “How’m I supposed to get that fuckin’ bullet outta you? Rick, you need to hold down his arm.”

Rick saw no other way than to sit on Connor’s legs, using his hands to press his right arm down that was twitching with pain. “Sorry, man”, he said. 

Connor was actually quite brave, Rick thought. The bullet sat deep in his right side and he had to feel as if he was being torn apart while Daryl was trying to get it out. There was nothing to numb the pain after all. They had already been at it for several minutes and Connor still hadn’t lost consciousness even though he was white as a sheet and pearls of sweat were showing on his brow. Murphy was completely quiet but Rick could see his teeth digging into his lower lip, drawing blood.

Michonne was positioned close to them, Katana in hand, keeping watch in all directions as Connor’s moans were likely to attract walkers. She stood there strong and dependable like a guard tower. Carl was a few feet away from her in the shadow of a tree, watching over Dean, who was still alive but hadn’t come to. The fever was still burning him up and Rick doubted that he would make it through the night. Carl had mashed some antibiotics from the pharmacy for him and had tried make him swallow them with water but they didn’t seem to help. 

Rick didn’t quite understand why Carl had grown so attached to the young man, even though he’d only known him for a few days. It wasn’t like him to let strangers grow on him easily. Maybe it was because he had voted to safe Dean. He felt responsible for him now. Rick just hoped that he wouldn’t be too crushed if Dean didn’t make it. He saw the anxious looks Carl was throwing in their direction and hoped that this would be over soon.

The next moment Connor cried out and Daryl yanked the bullet from his body. Connor writhed in pain and his hand clutched Murphy’s arm so tightly it probably stopped the blood flow. 

Murphy cupped his brother’s face with one hand. “It’s alright, it’s out.”

“Fuck that was bad”, Connor groaned. 

Rick let go of his arm and moved his weight from his legs. “Do we need to sew him up?” he asked Daryl.

Daryl shook his head while he was cleaning the wound with iodine again. “Bullet’s been in too long. Might get infected if we close the wound. We’ll just patch it up.”  
“Thank god”, Connor said.

Murphy looked down at him. “Oh cm’on don’t be such a pussy. We’ve both had it worse.”  
“You’re one to talk. You weren’t shot, baby brother.”

“Hey, don’t call me that while I can’t beat you up!” Murphy gave his brother a light smack on the cheek. “Don’t think I won’t hit you jus’ because yer a fuckin’ invalid right now.”

“Won’t keep me from usin’ ya’s a punchin’ bag any time.” Connor tried to sit up and failed miserably.

“Sure. Can’t even sit up on your sorry lil’ ass right now…”

Rick looked over at Carl and couldn’t believe there was actually a small smile tugging at his son’s lips while he was listening to the brothers’ hassling. 

Daryl pushed Connor back. “Stay down. Still need to patch up that scratch on your shoulder. And I’m gonna bandage you.”

Rick got up and went over to Carl. “How’s he doing?” he asked, indicating Dean. 

Carl shrugged. “Hasn’t changed. He seems to dream a lot and he still calls out those names.” He looked at his father. “Do you really think he’s gonna die?”

Rick knelt down beside them and put a hand on Dean’s brow. It was way too hot. “We don’t even know what’s wrong with him. We can’t do anything to help him. We’ll just have to wait and see. The fever probably fights the infection. Let’s hope it doesn’t burn him up in the process.” 

Carl nodded. “I’m glad you got Connor and Murphy out.”

“So am I.” Rick looked over to the three men. Murphy was helping his twin get up now, putting his own coat over his shoulders. “We’ll find new clothes soon”, Daryl said.   
Still, Murphy bent down to pick up his brother’s peacoat. “Can wash this”, he said.

Daryl was packing up the bandages. It was a good thing they had taken a few first aid kits from the pharmacy. Always came in useful somehow. Murphy supported Connor while he was hobbling back to the SUV, one hand pressed to his side. 

“Good to go?” Michonne asked, keeping her eyes on a group of walkers that was approaching from the field. She moved over to Rick to help him put Dean back in the car. Rick threw one look at the dead bodies that were increasing their speed while coming closer. Their group was weak right now. They needed to be extremely high on guard.

*

“What is that?” Michonne asked as she stopped the car. 

Rick frowned and took in the scene Michonne was looking at. They had stopped on the road because Rick wanted to consult with Daryl about where to stop for the night. On the other side of the road was a group of trees and a walker was tied up to each of them. It was a strange sight as they were moving their heads wildly, while their arms were tied fast behind the trunks. Of course he had seen trapped walkers millions of times, also walkers that were tied up or restrained. And of course he remembered that one day back at the farm when he himself had been desperate enough to push one of them forward using a shackle to please Hershel who insisted on keeping them alive. Still, this seemed strange, tying walkers up instead of just killing them. He got out of the car, holding his gun, keeping a close eye on the walkers who were getting more agitated now that there were people around. 

Carl opened his door. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Carl, stay in the car”, Rick said.

“But I need to go pee.”

“Then stay close where I can see you.”

“Dad, that’s embarrassing.”

Daryl came towards them, crossbow slung over his shoulder. He had left the motorbike behind and was driving the SUV as Connor and Murphy were in no condition to drive a car right now. “Listen to your dad. Would be a hell lot more embarrassing to be found half eaten with your fly open.”

Carl grinned and made for a nearby group of bushes on their side of the road.

“How’re Connor and Murphy?” Rick asked.

“Doin’ fine. Told you they’re tough. Might need a rest soon, however.”

Rick nodded. “Same goes for Dean. He’ll need to lie down.”

Michonne sighed. “At some point we might have to relieve him from this. He’s suffering.”

“No”, Rick said. “That’s not how we do it. Everybody gets their chance.”

Michonne eyed him, her gaze very serious. “We can’t leave him out of our sight then.”

Daryl nodded once. “She’s right. He could become dangerous.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Rick looked at Michonne, then at Daryl, held their gazes. “He’s my responsibility. We don’t kill our own. Never. Are we clear?”  
Both nodded and Rick relaxed slightly. 

Carl came back and got into the car next to Dean. 

“Let’s talk about a camp for the night then”, Rick said.

Daryl gave him an upward glance. “Connor’n Murph saw a sign fer a church just a mile back. We’ll be there soon. They really wanna go there and it might not be our worst choice for shelter.”

Rick took a step backwards when he remembered the last church he’d been in and what had happened right afterwards. He’d prayed for a sign from god, prayed for Sophia to come back save. And soon afterwards Carl got shot. He felt a wave of nausea. “A church? No.”

Michonne looked at him questioningly. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me. Solid walls, a heavy door. Easy to secure as there’s only one room. Enough space.”  
“Rick, we don’t have to…” Daryl began.

Rick swallowed hard. He couldn’t let his fears and memories get the better of him again and prevent them from having a save quarter for the night. “No, you’re right. It probably is a good idea. Let’s go.”

*

The Saint Gabriel’s Baptist church stood secluded on a little hill and seemed peaceful and inviting in the impending dusk. It was surrounded by a very convenient wall with a gate wide enough to drive their cars through. Next to it was a small cemetery and Rick couldn’t help but remember how untroubled they had been when the dead had always been buried in places like that and people had gone to visit their graves and maybe have silent conversations with them. He didn’t understand anymore why so many people had feared death back then. In hindsight it seemed so peaceful, so much like something you might desire at the end of your life. So far from the cruel and meaningless existence that awaited people after their deaths nowadays.

God had surely left this earth. Yet when he looked at the little church and the light of the evening sun that caught in its high windows, he couldn’t help but notice that there was still beauty in the world. He stopped his car right behind the SUV and got out, gun drawn in case a few walkers were waiting to greet them.

He watched when the backdoors of the SUV opened and Connor and Murphy got out on both sides. Murphy waited for his brother and supported him on their way towards the church. Still, Connor was already moving almost upright and his hobble was hardly noticeable anymore. And it was hard to believe that Murphy had survived a fall from a five-storey building merely hours ago. Rick watched as the twins made their way to the church, armed with the two Colts they had picked from their stash. They opened the heavy doors cautiously and waited with raised guns before they entered, but apparently the church was clear. Rick was immensely glad about it. He’d never been very religious but the thought of seeing a house of god soiled with walker scum still gave him the shivers.

He watched Connor and Murphy enter the church and then turned back to the car, where Carl had already shouldered the backpack. Michonne was pulling Dean out of the backseat. He was completely unresponsive. She put one of his arms around her shoulder. Rick took his other arm and together they followed Daryl into the church. It was pleasant to arrive somewhere for once where walkers weren’t already waiting for them. Of course Rick knew that they weren’t far away, though.

He stopped short when he entered the church, because he hadn’t been prepared to see Murphy and Connor kneeling before the cross in front of the altar. They were close to each other and their heads were bowed low. When Rick came closer he could see that they were both clutching their rosaries, apparently lost in prayer. He had to admit it was a graceful sight. Soothing. Made you believe that there might actually still be a god to pray to. Even now. Connor and Murphy had survived after all. And Daryl and him had found them just in time. 

Rick and Michonne let Dean down softly on one of the benches. Rick went over to Daryl who was watching his cousins. Daryl seemed on edge, apparently waiting for Rick’s reaction. “They’re praying for the people they lost”, he explained. “Told you. Had a very religious mother. They’re a bit obsessed with the whole church stuff you could say.”

Rick nodded. “The tattoos may have given it away a little.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. They’re good guys. I can see that.”

Daryl relaxed.

Michonne cleared her throat. “I’ll go have a look around.” 

Rick nodded and she left the church, Katana drawn. 

Carl had put down the backpack and was kneeling next to Dean again. “We have to make him more comfortable. I’ll get the blanket from the car.”

“I’ll do that.” Daryl said. “You stay inside.”

Dean’s breath was labored now and his lips where almost white. Michonne had been completely right in her apprehensions. “We might need to tie him up tonight”, Rick said. “So as not to take any risks.”

Carl nodded. “I understand.”

Murphy and Connor had apparently finished their prayer. They got up simultaneously and crossed themselves, before turning away from the altar. Rick only now noticed that the wooden crucifix in front of which they’d been praying was broken in half. It was split exactly where the two bars of wood crossed. He wondered how that had happened. After all it didn’t seem as if there’d been a fight in this church. Everything else was intact. Maybe it was the work of someone who had lost all faith in god. That apparently didn’t go for the brothers. They were walking over to them now. 

Rick smiled at them. “This is a good place”, he said. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. From what Daryl and I saw and heard you had a really good thing in Boston and someone destroyed it. I’ll never be able to understand people like that.”

“Thanks”, Connor said. “Daryl told us in the car almost the same happened to you in a prison. Really sucks.”

Rick nodded. “People apparently haven’t been able to change. Not even at the end of the world. I’m glad you’re with us now.” 

Murphy looked at Carl. “We prayed for your friend.”

Daryl entered with the blanket for Dean and a small smile tucked at his lips when he saw Rick with his cousins.

*

Daryl was watching Dean’s twitching face in the soft light of one burning candle on the altar. He was keeping watch while the others were strewn on the floor, getting some sleep. His crossbow was in his lap. Daryl let his gaze wander over the small group he was part of. Rick and Carl were close together, lying on one worn blanket. Michonne had settled down on one of the benches that she managed to sleep on even though it was extremely narrow. Murphy and Connor were close to Daryl, huddled together like two young dogs, facing each other. Both were using the other’s arm as a pillow and somehow they seemed to be completely comfortable in that position. Both held their colts in the other hand. It was amazing how much they mirrored each other even when they were asleep. They even often moved at the same time or pulled each other closer simultaneously.

Daryl was glad that up to now no one had commented on the closeness of Connor and Murphy. He was quite aware that the way they were constantly all over each other might be irritating for people who didn’t know them. And Rick had seemed a little surprised at the beginning but he didn’t seem to mind. Daryl knew that Carl already loved Connor and Murphy. They’d always been good with kids. And Michonne apparently saw the whole situation from a practical point of view. As soon as Connor and Murphy were completely back on their feet they would be a valuable addition to their group. And as Daryl had known them since they were annoying little twin brats, driving their mother mad, they could surely be trusted.

Daryl still marveled at the warmth he felt in his heart since he had Connor and Murphy back. When he’d lost Merle he had been sure that he’d lost the last member of his family. They hadn’t always had a good relationships and there’d even been times when he hadn’t been sure he wanted to be back with Merle again. Still he was his brother and he’d always loved him. Losing him had torn a hole in him. He had thought that nothing would ever be able to fill this void. And of course losing Merle would always leave an aching scar. But this was more than he’d ever hoped to get back from this world and he’d die to protect it.

He felt a movement next to himself and pointed the bow at Dean. Dean jerked back, eyes wide, pupils dilated. “No” he whispered. “No, don’t shoot!”  
Daryl put a hand over the man’s mouth. “Shh. Gonna wake the others.”

“Dean looked at him with wide eyes but his voice was very quiet and shaky, when Daryl removed his hand. “Why’m I tied up?”  
“Just for safety. You uncomfortable?”

Dean nodded. “Need a drink. Please.” He was indeed so hoarse he could hardly talk.

Daryl quickly reached up and got the bottle of water from the altar. “Wait.” He pulled his knife and cut the rope that was loosely tied around Dean’s wrists. They hadn’t thought it necessary to hurt him. He helped Dean sit up and take a drink from the bottle. Dean took deep swigs until he had to cough and gasp for air. Daryl looked at him worriedly. Kid really didn’t look good. The fever may have gone down a little but Dean seemed so ill and faint it was almost painful to watch.

“Where are we?” he asked weakly.

“We passed Boston. We’re now on our way to Canada. Though that will take awhile.”

“No.” Dean shook his head slowly as if the movement caused him pain. “Can’t go with you. My brother. He’s here somewhere. I know it. Gotta find him.” He tried to get up and was so determined about it that he almost made it before his knees gave out and Daryl had to catch him before he fell. 

“Calm down”, he said. “Ain’t gonna find him like this. Need to get better first. We’re doing what we can. Carl gave you antibiotics.”

“No. I can’t leave him behind. You can’t take me with you. Please.” Dean freed himself from Daryl’s hold and got up on his knees again. His desperate gaze was turned to the roof of the church. “Castiel, please. I’ve never needed you like this. Don’t turn away from me now. Don’t abandon me. Sam’s in danger. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen him. He’s badly hurt. Everything around him is red.” He sank down on the floor, unconscious once again.

Daryl pulled the blanket over him and turned to see Murphy and Connor watching. Same expression in two similar faces. “What’s goin’ on with ‘im?” Connor asked.  
“He lost his brother”, Daryl explained.

“No wonder he’s like that then”, Murphy said.

Connor frowned. “Why aren’t we lookin’ for him? He needs help findin’ him.”

Daryl leant back against the altar, watching Dean closely. He couldn’t bring himself to tie him up again right now. Not after he’d been so desperate and shocked when he first woke up. “He’s been out of it since we first found him. Doesn’t really talk sense. Seems ta think he came from another world. We don’t even know if there is a brother.”

Connor and Murphy nodded. “We should still try to help him”, they said in unison.


	4. Discoveries

The next morning found them with aching limbs and backs. The church had been a safe place for the night but there hadn’t exactly been any cozy places to sleep. Over their breakfast of tinned food, Daryl told the others about Dean’s short time of being awake. But if anything Dean seemed even more out of it right now. He was completely unresponsive again, face white as a sheet, deep shadows under his eyes. He was barely breathing. While the others were still eating, Michonne asked Rick to come outside with her.

“We need to be careful right now”, she said when they had passed the church door. “We’re very vulnerable. We have a person who’s desperately ill, two who are slowed down by injuries and a kid. We can’t take any risks.”

“I agree”, Rick said. “Still, we’re a strong group. Daryl and you are lethal fighters and I’m not a bad shot myself. Could be worse.”

“But we’re highly increasing our risk by taking Dean. I’m not saying we should leave him behind, but he could be the one who decides our fate.”

“Michonne, leaving him behind now wouldn’t be much different from our decision to hand you over to the governor.”

“And maybe that wasn’t the wrong decision. Sacrifice one to save the group.”

“No.” Rick stepped closer to her. “We don’t do it that way anymore.”

Michonne looked him in the eye. Then she nodded. “It’s your call. Still, you should think it over.” She turned around. “I’d like to check the surroundings with Daryl. Maybe we can find food in the houses at the bottom of the hill. We all need to eat.”

Rick nodded. “I’ll stay here and keep watch. Don’t stay too long though.”

*

It didn’t even take half an hour for Daryl and Michonne to return. Rick was surprised to see them back so soon and they didn’t have any supplies with them. Carl bowed his head, disappointed. Murphy was checking on Connor’s wound and changing the bandages, not in the least distracted by his brother groaning with pain.  
Daryl strode up to Rick. “Got a sec?” he asked quietly. “Gotta show you somethin’. Michonne’s gonna keep watch here.”

Rick got up immediately. “Sure.” He followed Daryl down the aisle between the church benches. The early morning sunshine was falling in through the great windows, lighting up patches on the stone floor, showing the dust dancing in the air. One beam fell on the face of a statue of Mother Mary and Rick had to turn away, because it reminded him too much of things he’d lost. They passed Michonne who was keeping watch at the door and she nodded to them.

“Anything serious?” Rick asked Daryl, because his guts told him this didn’t mean anything good.

“Jus’ somethin’ we came across”, Daryl said. He led Rick through the gate in the wall and along a narrow pathway that was sloping down the hill, passing the cemetery. Daryl had his crossbow drawn and was moving swiftly and confidently. Rick marveled at the fact how safe he always felt in Daryl’s company. It was reassuring to have him around, to know that Daryl always had an eye on him, protecting him. Being here with Daryl in the early morning sunlight he could almost enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful sight of a small grove of birch trees beneath them. He could hear a magpie and he saw raspberry bushes that carried sweet red fruit. He could almost forget what horrors this world held for a moment. 

Then he heard the familiar moaning sounds that still sent shivers down his spine and the illusion of peacefulness was gone. He drew his knife. Moving closer to the trees with Daryl, he took in the same sight that had presented itself to them on the way here. Four Walkers were tied to a group of trees, hands behind the trunks, heads moving violently, teeth clicking. He heard them snarling and hissing in their direction, trying to get free, saw them turn their ugly heads to face them with dead eyes. 

“Strange”, he said, stopping in safe distance in front of the first one. “Do you think we should take them down?”

Daryl stepped closer to the tree. “We noticed somethin’”. He indicated for Rick to walk around the tree with him and pointed at the bonds. At first Rick didn’t know what he meant. Then he saw that the ties had been gnawed at as if something had tried to chew through them or had accidentally bitten into them while tearing at the flesh beneath. “Another walker?” he asked.

Daryl nodded. “Strange thing is walkers don’t go for other walkers. They only feed of the living.”

Rick stood completely motionless while the significance of Daryl’s discovery sank in.

“They were alive when they were tied up?”

Daryl shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable. “Seems a lot like it.” 

Rick felt suddenly nauseous. “Who’d do such a thing?”

Daryl shrugged. “People.”

Rick put a hand to the small of Daryl’s back. He knew that the other man was right. They’d both seen what men and women were able to do. People had attacked the prison, killed their friends mercilessly, taken away their shelter. People had almost raped Carl, had destroyed everything that Murphy and Connor had worked for in Boston. People were still the greatest threat in a world full of flesh eating monsters. Rick’s question had been completely naïve. Still, what he saw here seemed cruel and deformed in a way he still couldn’t grasp.

Daryl moved into his touch and Rick put an arm around him. They hardly ever allowed themselves this kind of closeness. Whatever there might be between them, had to wait. Until they’d led their group to safety, until Carl wasn’t in constant danger anymore. Until they could afford to let their guard down enough to consider that something might be growing between them. Now wasn’t the time. 

Their half-embrace lasted for a short moment; then Daryl stepped away. Rick turned his gaze back on the tied up walker in front of them. He raised his knife and drove it into the wretched creature’s head. He walked over to the next walker and something he hadn’t noticed before caught his eye. Nailed to the tree over the head of the creature was a cross that was broken in two. Just like the one in the church.

“We have to get out of here. Something’s very wrong.”

*

Rick and Daryl hadn’t been gone long but when they stepped through the door of the church, the scenery had changed drastically. Michonne was standing in front of the altar and had one arm around Carl. The boy was pale as a sheet and his eyes were glued to the floor, where Murphy and Connor were kneeling on both sides of Dean. Murphy had both hands on his chest, pressing down, administering heart massage. Connor had his head close to Dean’s face, listening for his breathing.  
Daryl stepped closer. “Damn”

Rick saw that Carl was clenching his fists, every muscle in his body taut and the sight almost broke his heart. Why did Carl have to go through this again and again? Why could he never protect him from losing someone? He hurried over to him but Carl stayed with Michonne, hardly noticing his father. Rick put a hand on Carl’s shoulder and tried to find some words of comfort but there were none. He squeezed his son’s shoulder tight, when he heard a choked gasp and turned his head to the men on the floor.

Connor gripped his brother’s arm. “He’s back. Stop pushin’, Murph.”

Dean drew another rattled breath and tried to sit up, but Murphy pinned him to the ground. Rick could see that Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused. His hands came up as if they were trying to grasp something. Then he suddenly relaxed and his eyes fell shut. His chest was heaving with strained breaths.

Rick could feel Carl slacken next to him. And finally his son turned to him and buried his head against his shoulder. Rick took him in his arms and pulled him closer, stroking his hair. He could feel his own heart beat a fast rhythm in his chest.

Michonne looked at him. “That was close. He probably won’t survive another ride in the car.”

Carl looked up at Rick, eyes wide. “Maybe we could stay here for a while?” he asked. “Until Dean’s stable?”

Carl hardly ever asked him for anything these days and Rick found it hard, to refuse. He exchanged a look with Daryl but the other man shook his head regretfully. And Rick knew he was right. “Sorry son, but we have to keep moving.” He didn’t want to worry Carl about the tied up walkers. The kid had enough on his mind already.  
“Connor could use a rest, too”, Carl tried again.

“I know, but we just can’t afford it. There’s still the danger of being surrounded by a herd. Especially this close to a city as big as Boston.”

Carl nodded. “Okay. But we won’t leave him behind. I’ll watch him, dad.” He looked up at his father with serious eyes. “I’ll kill him myself if necessary. You know I will.”  
Rick nodded. “I know.”

*

Daryl watched his cousins in the rear view mirror of the SUV, while he was following the Toyota Rick was driving. Connor was asleep, his head resting on Murphy’s lap. Murphy was looking out of the window but his hands kept gently playing with Connor’s hair, pushing strands of it back from his forehead. Daryl could hardly believe how good it made him feel that he had his cousins with him now. In a world that only seemed to hold darkness and despair, this glimpse of light had been so unexpected. He remembered the dreadful moment on the street crossing when everything seemed to have come to an end. His darkest hour, when Beth had been taken away from him. Right after she had made him see that even in a world like this there was still hope, still beauty. Everything had been torn apart inside him then. He had lost Rick and he’d lost Beth, the last link that connected him with the group he’d been part of, the last being on earth he’d wanted to protect. 

But she’d been right. Her giving him back some of his faith hadn’t been in vain. Having Rick back, being with Murphy and Connor again had been worth all the darkness he’d been through. He only hoped that Beth was in a good place now, too. The place that she deserved. And he swore to himself that this time he’d protect those he loved. He wouldn’t lose them again.

“It’s a good thing you brought Dean back”, he said.

Murphy turned away from the window. “Not sure. Michonne’s right. Might become fuckin’ dangerous. But there was jus’ nothin’ else to do. The kid was so desperate.”  
“No, you did right. You’re both good boys, you’n your brother. Your ma woulda been damn proud.”

“Ma’s in a better place now. Jus’ like dad.”

Daryl nodded.

“And Merle”, Murphy softly added.

“Wish ah could be so sure about that. At least he made the right decision in the end.”

Murphy nodded. “He loved ya. Even though he didn’ always show it right.”

“Yeah, s’pose so.” 

Murphy softly stroked Connor’s neck. “I hope Dean can find his brother.”

*

Rick hit the brakes hard, because there was a walker in the middle of the road. 

“I’ll get him”, Michonne said, starting to open her door.

Carl leaned forward between their seats. “Wait.”

The man on the road was standing completely still. He was wearing a brown trench coat and had his hands in his pockets. He had black hair and when he turned his head to face them, Rick saw brilliant blue eyes that were very much alive. He raised one hand as if to great them. Rick grabbed his gun and got out of the car. He pointed the colt at the man “Who are you?”

“I am Castiel.” The voice was deeper than Rick had expected and what the man said made him take a step backwards. 

“Dean is with you”, the man in the trench coat continued. “Let me see him. Now.”

Rick didn’t lower his gun. “How do we know you aren’t going to harm him?”

“If you do not let me help him now, he is surely going to die. He is very weak.” There was a glint of desperation in Castiel’s eyes that triggered Rick’s decision.

He turned around to Michonne and Daryl who had walked up to their car. 

“Get Dean out”, he said. “I want Carl to stay inside the car. We don’t know if we can trust that man yet.”

They put Dean down at the side of the road carefully and stepped away. Rick had lowered his gun but still kept it drawn.

Castiel knelt down in the dirt next to Dean immediately. He cupped his face with one hand and put the other on his chest, directly above his heart. Rick took in Dean’s parched lips, the deep shadows under his eyes and the pained look on his face. And then he saw the tortured features relax gradually under Castiel’s touch. Dean opened his lips slightly and took a deep breath. Some of the color slowly returned to his pale face. 

“How’s he doing that?” Rick whispered.

Michonne’s eyes were also glued to the scenery. “No idea. Looks like magic to me.”

Daryl was silent, watching their surrounding while throwing looks in Dean’s direction every now and then.

Whatever Castiel was doing, it clearly helped Dean. When he opened his eyes this time, his pupils weren’t dilated and his gaze was clearer than before. He seemed more focused than ever. Rick let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. A heavy weight left his shoulders.

*

Dean didn’t believe his eyes at first when he saw the angel bending over him. There were deep lines between Castiel’s eyebrows and worry darkened his blue eyes.

“Dean?”

“Is it really you, Cas?” Dean was surprised at how weak and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Yes, it is really me.” A very small smile tucked at the corners of Castiel’s lips. He moved forward and lightly kissed Dean’s forehead. Dean’s brow creased. If he hadn’t known before that this was indeed his angel, he did now. Typical for Cas to take advantage of his weakened state to harass him. 

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I tried everything in my power to get here as soon as possible, Dean.”

Something crossed Dean’s mind and he furrowed his brow. Why are you here anyway? I told you to look for Sam. He’s in trouble. I saw it in my dreams.”

“I know”, Cas whispered. “But our bond is stronger, so I was only able to find you. My powers are weak here. And you were dying, Dean.”

“Was not.”

Rick coughed. “Dean, you were almost dead. He saved your life. As did Connor and Murphy earlier.”

“I’d say you’re exaggerating. I feel fine.” He glowered at Castiel. “Whatever. You should have found Sam. He’s the priority.”

“I told you, I could not.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah, because of your strange infatuation with me.”

Cas drew back, obviously hurt. “Are you not glad at all that I am here? I heard how desperate you were and how weak and I tried so hard to get to you, even though this place is not meant for angels. But your prayers led me here.” He turned around to face the SUV. Dean followed his gaze and saw two young men who were just walking over to them. “And theirs.” Castiel said.

“Who’re they?” Dean asked, slowly sitting up which wasn’t a good idea. His head started spinning again and he relented.

“Well they have got a very good connection to heaven.”

Dean looked at the group that was gathered around him. He remembered the leader, the ninja, the man with the crossbow and the kid, but he didn’t know the two guys further back. Brothers apparently.

So the group hadn’t left him behind. He had to be thankful for that, he guessed.

The leader, Dean remembered now that his name was Rick, knelt down beside him. “You were out for quite a while. How are you feeling, Dean?”

“Fine.” Dean lied. He actually felt like shit but at least he was awake and that had to count for something. “Thirsty.”

Daryl came closer and handed him a bottle of water. And Dean almost emptied it with one gulp.

Rick turned to Castiel. “May I ask where you came from?”

“It is hard to explain”, Cas said. “Let us just say from another place.”

“How come you were able to find him?” Michonne asked. “You seemed to just appear out of thin air, directly in front of us.”

Cas sighed. “I know there is not anything like magic here. I have certain powers, however, and I can help others with them. As I said, they are weak here but I have always had a strong connection with Dean.”

“I’m glad you were able to heal him”, Rick said. “Doesn’t really matter how. And living in a world where the dead come back to life, I’m more than ready to believe that there are also positive powers around.”

Castiel nodded, obviously relieved that no further explanation was expected of him.

“Hey Cas”, Dean said, his mind becoming clearer slowly. “What about Sam? Where is he? How can we get to him?”

Castiel didn’t get a chance to answer.

“Walkers”, Daryl said, turning to shoot the closest one with an arrow. Michonne went to take out the rest of them, katana raised. It was clear they couldn’t stay much longer. More of the creatures were approaching across the field.

“Sam is close”, Castiel said.

“Close?” Dean began to sit up again and felt light-headed immediately. But this time he didn’t give in. “Let’s go get him.”

By the way Cas looked at him, Dean immediately knew really bad news was coming. “I wish it was that easy. Sam got caught.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently there a more people than I thought who don't mind crossovers. Thanks so much for reviewing guys!


	5. My Brother's Keeper

Dean hardly remembered the church they finally decided to go back to. Castiel had insisted to get him somewhere safe before he told him about Sam. The church was two miles behind them and Carl explained to Dean that they’d spent their last night there. He must have been more out of it than he’d thought. Apparently the place provided relative safety and that’s why they were headed back there to give Cas a chance to explain what had happened to Sam. 

Dean’s head was still spinning but he felt a lot better than during the last few days. His existence had been a constant blending in and out of reality. Sometimes he’d heard voices, but he had hardly ever been able to make out words. He’d dreamed of Sam again and again and his brother was gagged and tied up in some dark place and the sight made him so desperate to finally wake up, but he just couldn’t. His struggle had cost him everything he had and he still felt exhausted. When they were back in the church he thought he remembered a talk with Daryl he’d had here, but he wasn’t sure if he’d only dreamed it. 

Rick and Castiel had to support him on his way to the altar room and Carl laid out a blanket for him to sit on. He hated being the invalid. He still felt so weak that he didn’t even protest when Cas sat close and put an arm around him to support him. 

“So where’s Sam?” Dean asked when everyone was gathered in a circle. Only Michonne was keeping watch at the door. Daryl was standing close to Dean, holding his crossbow. The two brothers were sitting down opposite of him and Rick and Carl were seated to his right.

Castiel let his gaze shift around the group. “Before I start I want to say thank you for taking care of Dean. I know he can be a handful and I am glad you did not leave him behind.”

Dean glared at him. “Hey”

“Wasn’t awake much”, Daryl said. 

Rick looked at Castiel. “We don’t leave people behind once we’ve taken them into the group.”

“I am very glad about that. He would have been lost without you.”

Dean snorted. “Not for you to decide. Better start spilling the beans about my brother.”

“As I said, Sam got caught. I do not know what brought you both here, but someone obviously wanted to get rid of you for good. From what I gathered, Sam was taken prisoner by an ominous sect that formed in this area.

Rick frowned. “A sect?”

“Yes. They call themselves the ‘Church of Doom’ and are lead by a man named Lazarus. Apparently they see the zombies as some kind of gods. They pray to them, bring them sacrifices.”

Dean felt sick to his stomach. “And you’re telling me they have my brother? They have Sam?”

Castiel nodded. “I am sorry I do not have better news.”

Dean scrambled to his feet. This time he managed without falling back, but only barely so. “Where is he? Tell me, Cas. I’m getting him out of there. Tell me now!”  
Castiel got up and took his arm. “Wait, Dean. We need a plan. They have a set of bunkers. They are armed and the prisoners are well guarded.”

“And you think I care?” Dean spat. “I’m not leaving my little brother alone in there for a minute longer.” He pushed Cas away, feeling tears of rage burn behind his eyes. Damn, if only his head didn’t hurt so fucking much. 

“He’s damn right, let’s go.” 

Dean was astonished that someone was taking his side. He looked in the direction of the brothers. He wasn’t even sure which of them had spoken, because they both seemed so determined. They got up and looked at him calmly. “We’re with you” One of them said.

“We’ll get yer brother out.” The other added. “You can count on me’n Murphy.”

“Thanks”, Dean whispered, slowly sitting down, because his legs threatened to give away.

Daryl and Rick both got up. “Connor, Murph, we need to talk about this first”, Daryl said. “Rick wants to move north.”

The brothers turned to face him. Dean asked himself if they were twins. They didn’t look completely alike, but their movements seemed as if they were mirroring each other. It was amazing to watch. And apparently they didn’t even need to exchange looks to know what the other was thinking.

“Can’t leave his brother behind”, Connor said calmly. “We can’t ignore a sect that’s fuckin’ sacrificin’ living people to the dead.” 

Murphy nodded. “’s not right. It’s sacrilege. We need to stop it.”

For the first time Dean noticed the tattoos on the brothers hands. Aequitas. Veritas. It gave him hope and he breathed in deeply. Maybe he’d stand a chance to free Sammy if they were with him. 

He looked over to Daryl and Rick. Daryl seemed torn as if he didn’t know what to do or say. “Rick?”, he finally asked in a very low voice.  
Rick’s head was bowed and he had his hands were on his hips. He was silent for a few moments and no one else spoke. Dean could feel Castiel’s hand on his back, supporting him. He knew that Castiel would stay with him whatever happened and for one moment he allowed himself to lean into the touch.  
Rick finally looked up. “Connor and Murphy are right”, he said. “If there are people who are held prisoner we have to try to free them. No one deserves a fate like that.”  
Daryl relaxed visibly and Dean closed his eyes in relief. 

*

“D’you think it’s strange the stars are still shinin’ as bright as ever?” Murphy asked, looking up at the night sky. He and Connor were seated outside of the church on the steps that lead up to the entryway. They had insisted on taking the first watch, having convinced Daryl they felt good enough already. Connor’s wound was healing well and Murphy claimed he didn’t feel any aftereffects of his fall. Murphy was leaning his back against the stone wall of the church and Connor was sitting between his legs, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder. They were warmed by a woolen blanket that was slung over Murphy’s shoulders. Their guns were right beside them.

“No. Why shouldn’ they?” Connor turned his head to look at Murphy. “Still got you wi’ me after all. World’s still in order.”

Murphy nodded. “Yeah. But we lost the Irish Quarter. Couldn’t protect it.”

Connor patted his brother’s knee. “Right. But Daryl’n Rick took revenge fer us. We’re with a good group now, brother. They’re worth fightin’ for.”

“Yeah. We’re with Daryl.” Murphy closed his arms around Connor’s torso.

“He seems better off now, right?” Connor asked quietly.

Murphy nodded. “More himself.”

“’s like you said. Merle loved ‘im but he didn’t always do him right. Didn’t respect ‘im the way he deserves.”

Murphy put a small kiss to his brother’s temple. “He was always tryin’ to put him down, make him smaller. Daryl’s more at ease now. Rick really appreciates ‘im.”

“Hmhm”, Connor smiled. “Should always treat your brother right.”

“Well, I do.”

“Ya sure?” Connor leaned into Murphy even more. “Seems like a while you’ve really appreciated me.” He raised one knee and Murphy put both his hands on Connor’s thighs. “Well you’ve been shot after all.” He softly nuzzled Connor’s neck.

“Has that ever stopped me?” Connor asked.

“Now ya mention it: no.” Murphy ran his hands up his brother’s jeans-clad thighs and over his torso.

“Oh, stop teasin’”, Connor groaned. “Like you said: I was shot. Better be good to me.”

“No worries, ah will.” Murphy said, biting down lightly on Connor’s neck. He could feel Connor’s heartbeat accelerating under his hands and he tore at his shirt to get his hands under it, carefully avoiding the bandages. Connor’s body tensed under his touches and he relished his brother’s soft moans so close to his ears.

“Murphy?”

“Hm?”

“Yer still teasin’.”

Murphy bit his lips. “Ah, c’mon. Yer always in such a hurry. Just let me hold ya fer a while.” 

Truth was he enjoyed being in this position. It wasn’t often Connor let him have the upper hand. And he loved the feeling. Still, he could sense that his twin was getting really agitated. He just wasn’t the most patient of guys.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you”, he whispered and let his right hand slide down between Connor’s legs. His pulse sped up when he felt the hardness there. “Know what ya need.”

Connor’s head fell back on Murphy’s shoulder and he moaned loudly. “Damn, tha’s better.”

Murphy bit his lip, cupping Connor’s erection and stroking it through his pants. He could feel his own dick responding now, pressing up hard against his brother’s back.

Connor’s hand pressed down on Murphy’s thigh. “C’mon now, do it right.”

Murphy hesitated for a moment. “You sure? You were shot yesterday. Don’t wanna tear the wound or somethin’.”

“Oh now you’re startin’ to worry?” Connor asked. “Fuckin’ great timing. Get the fuck goin’ or I’m gonna tear somethin’ else.”

“Alright, calm down.” Murphy moved his hand up a little to open the button of Connor’s pants and his brother sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and Murphy could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. No doubt that Connor was really ready for it. He put his left hand on his brother’s chest, trying to keep him still, keep him from hurting himself. Then he freed his erection with his right and started stroking him in a slow and regular rhythm. Connor’s lips parted and his eyelashes fluttered and Murphy marveled at how beautiful he was, how glorious in his arousal. He had to lean forward to kiss his sensual lips and Connor leaned into the kiss, craving release.  
Murphy tore away when it got too intense. He had to concentrate on pleasuring his brother without getting him too worked up. He was quite worried about the wound, no matter how tough Connor was.

“Yeah, Murph, hurry up”, Connor moaned, squrming between Murphy’s legs, moving his hips upwards into Murphy’s touch. Murphy changed the rhythm of his strokes a little and the next moment he felt a shudder run through Connor’s body when orgasm hit him. Connor arched up into his grip, moaning loudly, releasing himself over Murphy’s hand and his own shirt. Murphy stroked him through it, kissing the sensitive spot on Connor’s neck. 

Afterwards Connor sank back into his arms and Murphy held him while his brother allowed himself a moment of rest. His breathing calmed down slowly.

“Y’alright?” Murphy whispered finally.

“Yeah”, Connor sighed. “Your turn now. Ah can feel you need it.”

Murphy shook his head. “Not tonight. You’re not healed yet.”

“So? Can still make you feel good.” Connor turned his head to kiss him.

“No.” Murphy pulled back. “We don’t have a doctor or anything. Won’t let ya get infected jus’ because yer so horny. I’m doing it myself.”

“Ah, c’mon there’s no need for that”, Connor whined. “Ah can do you.”

Murphy shook his head again and made to get up. He put the blanket around Connor’s shoulders, walked down the stairs and moved a few steps into the yard. He looked around to his brother before he opened his zipper and started masturbating. He could feel Connor’s eyes watching him and it made it all the better. He bit his lower lip and let his head fall back. And then Connor was behind him, holding him, softly biting his neck. It felt amazing and he moved into Connor’s embrace, moaning his name. Connor’s hand stroked his torso, pushing his shirt up to tease his sensitive nipples. He loved his brother's hands on his body. Murphy came in no time, a white heat surging through him that made his knees go weak. 

He turned around in Connor’s arms, giving his brother a look that was hungry and innocent at the same time. And Connor put a hand to the back of his head, pulled him close and kissed him in a way that made every nerve in Murphy’s body tingle with desire again. He didn’t even hear the church door open.


	6. High Stakes

Daryl drew back a step when he saw his cousins and for a moment he was completely at a loss. Then he turned to close the door to the church behind himself and leaned against it. Connor and Murphy were standing a few steps away in the dim light of the moon and they were kissing as if the world was about to end. Which it actually was, Daryl reminded himself. So maybe this wasn’t such a big deal after all. Then again he was just witnessing something that would probably have put everyone else in his group into shock. He cleared his throat which had absolutely no effect on the brothers. 

“Connor! Murphy!” he called and two heads turned towards him reluctantly. “Christ, can’t you get a grip on yerselves? At least do it somewhere private.”

Murphy and Connor didn’t even have the decency to act as if they had been caught. Even in the dusk Daryl could see that they were both flushed and not happy about the disruption.

“What’s the big deal?” Connor asked, not letting go of Murphy.

“You’re causin’ a public nuisance here you horny basterds.”

“Ah shut up”, Murphy grinned. “Yer jus’ jealous ‘cause yer not getting’ any.”

Daryl grunted. “Jus’ keep your flies zipped fer a while. We have a kid with us.”

Connor smiled innocently. “We’ll be more careful then.” He gave Murphy another kiss.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “’s my turn to keep watch. You two can tuck in now.”

“Great”, Connor said. He carded his hand through Murphy’s hair once more and took his brother’s hand to pull him along. 

Murphy smiled at Daryl. “Thanks.”

Daryl watched them go and considered saying something more. But he didn’t really know what to tell them. Connor and Murphy didn’t even feel they were doing anything wrong. As far as they were concerned they were just two halves of the same being. It had always been the two of them and to Daryl it even felt wrong to want to take away from them what they had. Still he didn’t know how the rest of their group would react if they ever walked into them kissing like that. They’d probably freak. Carl was definitely too young for this and Rick was just so righteous and moral. He didn’t even want to start thinking about the others.

If there was one thing Daryl feared at the moment it was that something might make their group fall apart. There was no way he could decide between his cousins and Rick. It would just tear him in half, like it had happened when he’d gone with Merle. Back then he’d still thought that he could walk away from Rick just like that but he’d been proven wrong. Yet the thought of losing Connor and Murphy was just as unbearable. He kicked a stone towards the wall and sat down on the steps, glaring into the darkness. He would have to talk to the brothers. He had to make them understand. They weren’t in their own little world anymore. They had to be careful.

*

Before Dean even opened his eyes the next morning he knew that he was better. His head didn’t hurt as badly anymore and he could think more clearly than in days. The ache in his whole body had almost subsided and he didn’t feel light-headed and hot from the fever. He was so relieved, a small smile appeared on his lips. Then he remembered Sam wasn’t with him and he told himself to get up and get going. 

He stretched and opened his eyes. Strikingly blue irises were gazing at him intently, much too close for comfort. He shrank back. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel blinked.

“Have you been staring at me the whole night?” Dean was horrified.

“I have been watching over you. You seem to be better.” Castiel reached out a hand and Dean felt a feather light touch on his forehead. It felt cool and comforting but he wasn’t about to admit that.

“Cas?” he asked, swallowing hard. 

“What is it, Dean?”

“Do you happen to remember anything about our little talks about personal space?” 

“I am sorry.” Castiel moved away a little bit but was still too close for Dean’s liking. But after all, he probably had the angel to thank for how he felt right now. So he decided not to complain anymore and just bear with it. 

“I am better”, he whispered. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re here, Cas.” He patted the angel’s shoulder and Cas looked at his hand as if he didn’t really know what to make of it. Dean started to get up and –wow - did it feel good not to fall back like a dying bug immediately. He decided to take it slow anyway and remained in a sitting position for now. It was chilly in the church and he pulled the blanket he’d been sleeping on over his shoulders. Looking around himself he saw the boy give him a warm smile and was surprised how glad the kid obviously was that he was awake. He gave him a nod and looked over to the two brothers who had supported him yesterday.  
He didn’t understand immediately what they were at, because it seemed so absurd, but apparently they were doing laundry. Murphy was kneeling in front of a large basin that was filled with soapy water and rubbing at a black cloth. Was it common to do laundry in a zombie apocalypse or was he still out of it and imagining stuff?

“What are they doing?” he whispered to Cas.

Castiel shrugged. “Murphy apparently found the basin and the soap in a shed in the churchyard. There is a pump in the cemetery for watering flowers that is still working. He said he wanted to wash his brother’s coat. It was full of blood apparently. And it seemed to be very important to him that it became clean again.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean watched in wonder.

Rick entered the church, carrying a bucket of water. He put it down next to Murphy, walked over to Dean. “How are you?” 

“Better than I’ve felt in a while.”

“That’s good. Are you hungry? We left a little porridge for you. Daryl and Michonne are out to find some supplies. Daryl also wanted to hunt. Let’s hope they’re successful.”

Dean was surprised to find that he actually was a little hungry. He hadn’t been in days. “Thanks, I am.”

Carl came over and handed him the porridge in a tin can. Normally Dean abhorred that kind of food but today he took a few spoons before offering it to Castiel. “Do you have to eat?”

Cas shook his head. “My powers are weak here but thankfully I do not have your needs. Not yet anyway.”

Murphy stopped rubbing at the jacket and looked over to them. “So you’re really an angel?” He asked. “Damn that’s amazin’. I’ve always wanted to see one since I was a little kid.”

“Tha’s true”, Connor said. “He kept going on about’em: Ma, what do angels look like? Do they have wings? Are they pretty?”

Dean grinned. “Hope you’re not too disappointed then.”

Castiel gave him a frown and looked back at Murphy, smiling. “Yes, I am an angel of the lord. Unfortunately, I will not be of much use here. I wish I could do more for you.”

“Never mind”, Connor said. “You’ll bring us luck.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Let’s hope so. So Cas, what abilities do you have here?”

“Well apparently I am able to give you some of my powers to heal you. I am not sure if it works with anyone else, though. It must be because of our bond.”

“Yeah”, Dean said, looking upwards. “No need to mention that again and again.”

“What kind of bond do you share?” Carl, who had squatted down beside them, asked.

“We’re friends”, Dean explained. “He’s kind of family to me.” He looked at Castiel. “Right?”

“Right”, Cas said. “Dean is the closest thing to family I have ever had.” He reached out a hand and put it on Dean’s arm a little awkwardly. There was a light tingle on Dean’s skin and he felt the lingering pain in his head subside even more. So he didn’t move away this time. 

Carl smiled. “Don’t you have wings?”

“I had”, Cas said. “I don’t have them here.” He looked at Dean apologetically. “I won’t be able to appear and disappear. Cost me everything to get to you. I seem to have a bit of vision, though. I was able to see you. And Sam.”

Dean’s head jerked up. “Can you see him now?”

Castiel nodded, avoiding Dean’s eyes. 

Dean grabbed his shoulders. “Cas! Why didn’t you tell me you could see him right now? What’s going on with him? Come on, tell me.”

Cas looked up slowly. “He is in a very bad situation. They have chained and gagged him and he does not get enough to drink. He is thirsty. He is in pain. We will have to get to him soon.”

Dean looked at the tin of porridge next to him. How had he been able to eat? How had he been able to sleep? What kind of brother was he? He got up. “I’m going to get him. Now. I can’t keep him waiting if he’s that bad off. You’re coming with me Cas?”

Rick stepped up to him and put a hand to his shoulder, calmingly. “Dean. I understand your concern for your brother. But we have to plan this through. It won’t make sense to go to their lair in bright daylight. We’d just endanger your brother. Castiel told us they’re heavily armed.”

Dean’s fists clenched and unclenched. “So what do I do?” He asked, grinding his teeth. He saw that Connor and Murphy had got up and were watching him, their eyes full of sympathy. He couldn’t bear it. And he couldn’t bear Rick’s calm tone. He was losing Sammy and he had to do something right now. 

“We have a plan.” Rick said. “Tonight a group of us is going to set out and try to get as close to their camp as possible. We’ll decide if it’s save to do something right away. If not we come back and plan an ambush. Depends on how many people they have and how well they are armed.”

“No”, Dean said, shaking his head. “We have to get him out. Now.” He couldn’t stand thinking of Sammy, trapped and in pain, fearing that Dean might not come for him.  
“We’re not at our full strength right now”, Murphy said calmly. “You’re still weak and my brother was shot.”

“I’m alright”, Dean said but at the same moment everything went black before his eyes and he stumbled backwards against the altar. He had to hold on to it so as not to sink to the ground. A wave of nausea rolled over him. 

Rick grasped his arm and Castiel was next to him immediately, supporting him. “Lie down, Dean” he said softly and Dean wasn’t able to resist. Damn, why was he this faint? He was letting Sam down, who was depending on him right now. He had to get a grip on himself. 

He couldn’t believe how good it felt to have Castiel’s hand on his forehead a moment later. The nauseating feeling left him immediately and the vertigo subsided. He couldn’t refrain from putting his own hand over Castiel’s and breathing in deeply. 

He saw the others gather around him and closed his eyes in shame. Why did he have to make such a show out of himself? It was plain embarrassing. “Okay, so I’m still a bit under the weather”, he whispered. “Still can’t make Sam wait.”

“We’ll go there tonight”, Murphy said. “We’re gonna do everythin’ we can for yer brother.”

Rick nodded. “Just relax, Dean.” 

*

The arrow hit the wild pig directly into the eye and the animal fell over immediately, without even noticing it had been shot. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and approached his prey fast and quietly through the underbrush. He triumphed inwardly. This was good. They’d be able to feed from this for three days at least. Eating right would help Dean and Connor to get better and Carl was such a scrawny kid. He really needed a good meal. Not to mention Rick, who was becoming thinner every day. Every bone in his body was showing. Daryl was so looking forward to seeing their faces when he brought them the pig. Not to mention the two squirrels he’d shot earlier. This was becoming a really good day.

He tied the legs of the pig together and slung it over his shoulder. Then he headed back to the meeting point. He and Michonne had driven into the small village together, using the Toyota. There hadn’t been too many walkers and Michonne had stayed to deal with them and raid the houses while Daryl had gone hunting.  
She was already waiting for him when he came out of the woods, leaning against the hood of the car. Daryl took in some of the beheaded walkers that were strewn along the street and thought that she looked like a pirate queen who had dealt with the mutiny of her crew. She turned to Daryl and nodded at the pig approvingly. “Well done. The houses were already raided. Not much left. Found some drinking water, though.” She indicated a canister in the backseat of the car.  
“Good.” Drinking water was indeed important. They could get water from the pump in the cemetery to wash but didn’t drink it because they were afraid it might be soiled.

Michonne opened the trunk and Daryl placed the pig on some rags.

“So what’s your opinion?” he asked when they were both back in the car. Michonne was driving through the soft rain that had started falling. Both being rather on the quiet side they hadn’t exchanged more than a few necessary words during their trip up to now and Daryl’s question was the first attempt at conversation.  
Michonne didn’t look away from the wet road. “On what exactly?”

Daryl shrugged. “Our group right now. Ah know you weren’t too thrilled about lookin’ fer Connor’n Murphy. You want to get to Canada as soon as possible. Now there’s another hold-up.”

Michonne was quiet for a while. “It was the right decision to get your cousins”, she said finally. “Even if it was dangerous.” She looked at Daryl and back to the road. “But if it was for me to decide, Dean’s problems wouldn’t be our problems. The four of us were a close-knit group. Family. I don’t need a fight with another governor or the likes of him to ruin that again.”

“Agreed”, Daryl said quietly. “But it’s Rick’s call and I’ll go along with him.”

“And Rick’s right in many ways.” Michonne said. “What’s the use of surviving if we’re not human anymore?”

Daryl nodded slowly.

Michonne’s eyes were pinned to the road. “I’ve noticed a positive change in Carl. He’s allowing himself to be more compassionate again. Trusting even. I feared he might have lost that after the prison.”

“Seems to care about Dean.”

“Yes. And that’s why I think it’s right if we help them. Even though it may cost us.”

Daryl nodded once. “Let’s just hope the price isn’t too high.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Senema for the inspiration. :) And thanks to all the reviewers for the encouragement. I really didn't think there were so many people who would deal with this kind of crossover.


	7. Darkness

The gravestones threw long shadows in the light of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful and Dean tried not to think of the corpses that might be moving underneath the ground, having awoken in their graves. No one knew for sure if the illness had also befallen people that were already dead and he hoped it wasn’t so.

He leaned back on the bench under the old oak tree that stretched its branches over the graves and watched the leaves that were beginning to change color. He had felt choked inside the church with Castiel constantly hovering over him and there’d been nothing to do for him. Connor and Murphy were busy tending to the group’s stash of weapons, cleaning and checking them. It was clear that they knew their way around guns and knives. Daryl was building a fire to roast the pig on and Carl was helping. Rick and Michonne had left the church yard to clear the surrounding from stray walkers as they didn’t want a herd to form on their doorstep. His help hadn’t been needed and he was told to rest.

Problem was he couldn’t. Tonight part of the group was going in the direction of the sect’s lair. Cas was going to show them the way. Dean, Connor and Carl would stay back. And even though Dean knew that this was the best decision because the three of them were the weaker links of the chain at the moment, he almost couldn’t stand the thought of waiting around and not being able to do anything. He was going crazy with worry and what he really wanted to do was shoot down the whole sick Curch of Doom. How could they dare to take his brother?

He heard footsteps and was glad that it wasn’t Castiel who was looking for him. He was thankful that the angel was here, but Cas had a way of making him uncomfortable, always standing too close, always touching. And the fact that his touch felt heavenly at the moment, soothing his pain, calming his mind, didn’t make it any easier to avoid him. There were moments he just wanted to give in and lie down to let Cas caress him all he wanted and he couldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t a damn pet dog after all. And he also felt that he wasn’t allowed to feel better, to let someone comfort him, as long as Sam was missing. His brother was his responsibility, his most important concern. It was bad enough already that Cas was here and not with Sam.

Connor sat down next to him. “I understan’ you”, he said. “I’d feel the same way ‘f t’was my brother in there.”

Dean nodded. “I know. I can tell you’re close.”

“Yeah. I know you wanna go with’em, but still it’s right fer us to stay here. We’d slow them down. Endanger them. Can’t afford that.”

“I know. It’s still hard to accept.”

“They’ll do what they can for him.”

“Yes. Can’t thank all of you enough. Also for taking me in.”

Connor put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “We’re a group now. We look out fer each other.”

“Connor?” Murphy entered the cemetery, carrying the black peacoat. “It’s almost dry. I think I got most of the blood out.”

Connor got up. “Thanks, Murph. I’m glad you brought it along.”

“Wouldn’t be the same without it, right?” Murphy smiled and handed Connor the coat. 

Dean swallowed hard and had to look away. Watching Connor and Murphy made him think so much of his brother it hurt. Sam and he had the same strong bond the MacManus brothers had, but some of their understanding was lacking in the relationship of Sam and himself. He felt like he hadn’t always been a good brother to Sam. He’d pushed him too much and sometimes he didn’t really see him as an equal but as his little brother he had to take care of. He knew that Sam hated it but still he couldn’t help it. He was just feeling so protective of him. 

He saw Connor and Murphy hug and got up. He needed to get Sam back from where he was now. He just had to. There was no other way.

*

“Come on you’ve hardly eaten at all”, Castiel said and pushed the plate with pieces of roasted pork back in Dean’s direction. 

Dean pushed it away again. “Stop hovering, Cas. It’s the last thing I need right now.”

They were all gathered around the fire in front of the church, celebrating Daryl’s good luck with hunting today. It was already dusk and it wasn’t long until part of the group would go looking for the layer of the sect. And that wass why Dean wasn’t able to eat. He wasn’t used to relying on others, on people doing things for him without gaining anything and it made him uncomfortable. He knew he could trust them because after all they could have just left him behind long ago. Instead they’d taken him and Cas in and were even staying here to help Dean’s brother instead of moving on. 

He looked around. Rick and Daryl were having a quiet conversation a little removed from the others on the steps of the church. Michonne, who had already eaten had taken off for a round along the wall of the churchyard. Carl was with Connor and Murphy. The two brothers were sitting so close their legs were touching and telling Carl Irish jokes, which weren’t always clean. His father was too lost in his talk with Daryl to notice and Carl seemed to really enjoy himself. Castiel of course was right next to Dean, shoving more of the pork onto him. 

Dean took a deep breath. “Listen everybody”, he said loudly. All heads turned to him and the conversations stopped.

He cleared his throat. “There’s something I have to say. I really appreciate you all agreeing to help me freeing my brother but I’ve thought about it. It really isn’t your business. You should move on. This is my responsibility. Sam always was. I’ll get him out or die trying. You shouldn’t get yourselves into danger for us.”  
“Dean”, Cas whispered.

Rick put a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and got up from where he was sitting, to walk over to Dean. “I know where you’re coming from”, he said, kneeling down so he could look Dean in the eye. “But that’s not how we work. You’re one of us now, Dean. Part of the family. And we protect what’s ours. It’s always been that way. Even before when we were a much larger group. We never left anyone behind. Your brother’s in trouble and we’re going to get him out. It’s our choice.”

Connor exchanged a look with Murphy. “We vowed to clean this new world from all evil”, he said. “And the sect that holds your brother captive sure’s hell is befoulin’ the name of the lord. Tha’s our business alright. So don’ worry.”

Dean closed his eyes. “Thanks” he whispered. He felt Castiel’s hand on his neck, soothing the pain that still subsided in his body, calming his nerves and this time he didn’t move away. He needed Cas right now even if it was hard to admit. And he needed the others.

*

Waking up was always the worst part. Sam groaned when he felt the pain surge through his body but at least this time he remembered not to move his arms. They were tied above his head and his shoulders were strained and hurt like hell, but whenever he tried to find a better position it felt as if his humerus bone was being removed from it’s joint. The position he was tied up in was literally tearing him apart and he’d passed out from the pain a few times. At the moment he was at a point where it would have seemed like mercy just to be unconscious and stay under. He’d been tortured before and this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with extreme pain, but it had never gotten to him like this. He was thirsty and there was sweat running into his eyes from his forehead and he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. Still they obviously wanted to keep him alive. Sometimes a hooded man came in and brought him water. Sam hated himself for drinking it, but his body was just too weak to resist it. Even if dying seemed like the better option now.

His only hope was that Dean was in a better place. Somewhere safe. And that he didn’t come looking for him. He didn’t want Dean to come here. He didn’t want him to fall into the hands of the strange man who called himself Lazarus. Talking with him was worse than the pain, worse than the thirst. Because Lazarus knew things about him, that no one was ever supposed to know. Sam wasn’t sure why. Maybe he’d talked in his sleep because despite the pain or because of it, his dreams were very vivid here. Or maybe they were giving him drugs that made him talk. It was possible because sometimes he felt so dizzy and lost that not even the pain could explain it. He’d even thought about the possibility that all of this was a nightmare. But if it was a dream why couldn’t he wake up?

Apparently he was being kept in some place underground. It was always dark and the way the low roof made him think of a bunker. He had no memory at all of getting here. The last thing he could remember was driving along some lonely road in Kansas with Dean and having another discussion about the music, because really, Sam was getting sick and tired of “This must be the place” and “Ramble on”. How he wished now that he could be hearing these two songs in an infinite loop if he could just sit next to Dean in the IMpala again. That would be so sweet. “Where are you brother?” he whispered. “I hope you’re good. I hope Cas is with you.” He closed his eyes and his face scrunched up in pain. “Please don’t come here.”

“Too late.”

He hadn’t noticed the man in the dark cloak that had entered his cell. Lazarus. Sam shrunk back from him and moaned when his arms protested the movement. The hooded man lit a candle on the wall. 

Lazarus came one step closer and took off his hood. Sam’s eyes had adjusted to the dark enough that he could make out Lazarus’ features. He was completely bald and there were scars covering part of his face. One of them was pulling the right side of his lip up and made it seem as if he was constantly wearing a half grin. Haggard as he was, his face reminded Sam of a skull. Still there was something about him that made it clear that he was a leader. He had an air of dignity and the way he moved was graceful and poised. He took the cup that was sitting on a small table next to Sam and went to fill it from a carafe near the entrance. 

“What do you mean?” Sam whispered.

Lazarus turned to face him and Sam cowered under his dreadful half-smile. “Your brother’s on his way here.”

Sam swallowed hard. “You’re lying.” He had already found out that Lazarus knew about Dean and he also knew about the strong bond between him and Sam. What really frightened Sam however, was that Lazarus also seemed to know about the fact that Sam sometimes looked at his brother in a way brothers shouldn’t look at each other. That he felt more for him than was right for someone so closely related. It pained him deeply that someone was able to see through him and he absolutely loathed being at the man’s mercy.

“You know I’m not.” Lazarus gracefully walked over to him and put the cup to Sam’s lips. Sam didn’t want to drink but his lips were parched and his body was screaming for water. He couldn’t control himself and swallowed the cool liquid greedily. Lazarus pulled the cup away from him after a few sips. “The group your brother is part of now is nearing our headquarters at this very moment. He is not with them, because he is too weak as my spies explained. But don’t worry. I know where he is. You won’t be separated much longer.”

“He’s weak? Why?”

Lazarus loomed over him, his eyes dark and pitiless. “Wouldn’t you want to know what’s the matter with that dear brother of yours, the light of your life, fire of your soul?” He took a step back and slowly folded his arms. “He was almost dead you know?”

Sam closed his eyes. He didn’t want Lazarus to see his fear, his desperation. He knew by now that the man fed from it like a wolf fed from raw flesh. 

“But the angel saved him.”

Sam’s eyes flew open. “Castiel is here? He’s with Dean?”

Lazarus nodded. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. He won’t be of any use. He can’t do anything against the Church of Doom. Our gods are stronger than his.”  
Despite Lazarus’ words Sam couldn’t help but feel relieved. If Castiel was with Dean he wasn’t alone at least. And Lazarus had also talked about a group. Maybe Dean would be okay. Why oh why did they have to come looking for him?

“Leave them alone”, he said. “Just leave them. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Oh, there’s nothing I want from you.” Lazarus said, raising his eyebrows. “Nothing but for you to be a sacrifice for the gods. Your time will come soon. As soon as I have your brother. There’s no bond stronger than brotherhood, don’t you think? A strong sacrifice you two will make.” He came a step closer. “You and the MacManus twins.”

* 

Dean couldn’t stop pacing in front of the altar, gun in hand. He had never felt this useless in his life. Whenever Sam had been in danger and there had been the slightest chance that he might do anything for him he had always gone to help him up to now. He knew however that he’d be in the way this time and Connor’s words had made a real impression on him. Especially because he had seen how hard it was for Connor to let his brother go alone. He knew that Connor was just as agitated and nervous about the mission as he was. It didn’t help Dean that Cas had gone with the others as now he was worried about him, too. He was sorry he’d been so abrasive but Castiel’s ways really unnerved him sometimes. He couldn’t help being rude to him. Still, right now he wished Cas was back with him. Preferably with Sam. Nothing seemed so sweet and wonderful in Dean’s mind right now than having both of them back safely. 

Another thing that worried him was that he felt weak and unwell again. The pain in his head had returned and was slowly creeping down his back. His limbs felt heavy and there was a burning behind his eyes. Apparently he still needed Castiel’s touch to feel alright.

He was surprised when he tasted blood. He hadn’t noticed he’d been chewing on his lip so hard. Carl handed him a tissue. “Don’t worry. They’re gonna be alright. They’re probably just going to check out the sect’s layer tonight. They won’t do anything right away.”

Dean took the handkerchief and pressed it to his bleeding lip. “Thanks boy. I realize you must be worried, too.”

Carl shook his head. “Not really. I know dad and Daryl will take care of each other.” He smiled. “And Michonne will take care of all of them. Castiel’s safe with that group, trust me. They’ve been on all kinds of missions.”

Dean thought that it wasn’t right that the boy was cheering him up. It should be the other way round. He still didn’t feel up to the mark apparently. He had to get a grip on himself. Straightening himself up, he put a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “You’re totally right. Hey, as I heard it I have you to thank for my life. Daryl told me you stood up for me when the others were about to decide to chuck me. It’s really appreciated.”

Carl smiled warmly. “Yeah, I knew you’d come to sometime. And I knew you were a good guy.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Well, not everyone would agree on that but I’m really fond of my life for some reason. It’s nice to wake up and still have it.” He looked over at Connor who was standing in the open doorway of the church, looking out. He kept very still and Dean knew he was probably listening to any unfamiliar sound. Daryl and the MacManus brothers seemed to fit into this world in a way that astounded Dean. Even though he was used to dealing with monsters and supernatural beings of all kinds he still felt lost in this surrounding that required basic survival skills like hunting and tracking more than anything else. He knew he could be extremely glad that a group like this with so many skilled survivors and a leader like Rick had found him. 

Carl sat down on one of the church benches facing the broken cross on the altar and Dean sank down next to him. He remembered how the twins had prayed in front of the destroyed carving of Jesus, before part of the group had left for the layer of the Church of Doom. He remembered how Connor had tucked Murphy’s rosary into his brother’s shirt and how Murphy had looked at him before he’d left. He knew exactly how they felt and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Sam leave ever again if he got him back. And he wouldn’t let Castiel leave either. 

He turned to Carl to ask him something about the small gun the boy was clutching when suddenly he heard movement behind them. He turned around and saw Connor retreating into the church and hurriedly closing the doors behind him. Something was very wrong. 

“Someone’s comin’”, Connor shouted. “Get the boy out of here! Now.”

Dean got up and for a few seconds he couldn’t decide whether to come to Connor’s aid or to do as he had asked him to.

Connor knelt down behind a pillar and pointed his Beretta at the church door. “Fuckin’ move!” he shouted at them. “I’ll hold ‘em up.”

Dean knew he couldn’t just leave Connor behind, but he also knew that the boy was his responsibility. They didn’t stand a chance here if someone was attacking the church. And Carl was probably lost outside alone. Before he could decide what to do however his headache hit him with full force again and he stumbled forward. His vision blurred and he desperately fought to stay upright, holding onto the altar for support.

“Carl, get ‘im out”, was the last he heard, before the boy grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. He did his best to keep up with him. Why oh why was he so desperately weak? He was such a burden like this. “Just leave me”, he said, but Carl didn’t even answer. He led him into the vestry and through the small door that led into the churchyard. Dean heard shots echoing behind him and someone was shouting. He wanted to go back to help Connor, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything like this.

“Damn, they must have been watching us”, Carl whispered, while they were hurrying through the churchyard, ducking behind the gravestones to get to the small door in the wall that was hidden by ivory. Dean felt a sweat break out on his skin and his body was shaking violently. It was all he could do to clutch his gun and lean on Carl, who was leading them through the passage and closing it behind them. They both fell down on the ground for camouflage, in case someone knew of this exit and was waiting for them, but apparently that wasn’t the case. They heard more shots from inside the church. A gunfight with many weapons.

“Connor”, Carl whispered.

“You have to get out of here”, Dean pleaded. “I’m only keeping you up. Please leave. I can hardly move.”

Carl shook his head. “You’re all I’ve got left right now. Come on.” He pulled Dean up and the night sky seemed to turn around them but Dean managed to remain on his feet. 

Carl took his arm again. “Into the forest, before they come after us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my reviewers for all the encouragement!


	8. The Hunt

Rick was crouching next to Michonne behind one of the thorny bushes. They were able to see the large barbed wire fence from here that surrounded the layer of the Church of Doom. They had left the car behind about a mile back and Castiel had led them here. 

“Looks like a casern”, Daryl whispered. 

“That’s bad” Michonne said. “It means they have a lot of weapons and are well protected.”

“Won’t be easy to get through that fence”, Daryl agreed.

“D’you see the crucifixes?” Murphy whispered. “Fuckin’ basterds destroyed them.”

And indeed Rick now saw the broken crosses that were sticking out of the ground all along the fence. In the darkness their sharp edges stood out like knives waiting for blood. Behind the fence he could see various buildings. A few barracks and a bunker.

“That’s where they’re keeping Sam”, Castiel said, indicating the bunker. “He’s constantly watched. Apparently he’s one of their most important sacrifices. I don’t know why they haven’t offered him to the dead yet. They’re saving him.” 

A guard shouldering a gun was coming along the fence now and they fell silent. He was peering out into the darkness. Another one was coming to meet him and they talked for a few moments before they moved along.

“Do you know how many there are?” Rick asked Castiel beneath his breath.

“I can sense about twenty-five.” 

“That’s too many”, Rick said. “We need a plan. We need to get in there without them noticing.”

“I could get closer”, Daryl offered.

Rick’s first impulse was to refuse the offer. He didn’t want Daryl to put himself in danger and he didn’t want him any closer to the sect than absolutely necessary. But then they had agreed to get Dean’s brother out of there and they needed more information. He felt himself wishing for a moment that they were on their way to Canada already where they might for once be safe. It became more and more difficult for him to see Daryl throw himself in danger’s way. 

“Be careful”, he said.

Daryl nodded and quietly went off in the direction of the fence. His silhouette melted into the darkness and he moved so smooth and silently that Rick’s eyes lost him almost immediately. He drew his gun and pointed it in the direction of the guard that came into view behind the fence. If anyone noticed Daryl he wanted to take them out before they could do anything. Murphy was right next to him and he too had his Beretta drawn.

They waited for long agonizing minutes that seemed to draw out into hours and Rick began to think that something had gone wrong. Then he noticed movement right next to them and Daryl emerged from the high grown grass, one finger to his lips. Rick felt relief wash over him like a wave. He reached out one hand and put it on Daryl’s shoulder. “Find out anything?” he whispered.

“Not much. Castiel’s right. There’s a single guard for the bunker watchin’ the entrance. No more’n five guards awake. We could do it if we get in quietly. Maybe we should do it now. Doesn’t seem as if they’re expectin’ anythin’.”

“You mean …” Rick started but he was interrupted by a low moan from Murphy. His head flew around to the younger man. It had sounded as if he had been badly hurt.

“What is it, Murphy?” Daryl whispered, moving over to his cousin.

“Connor”, Murphy groaned.

Rick’s eyes darted from Murphy to Castiel and in the pale moonlight he could see that the man was practically frozen to the spot. His face was pale with horror. “The church” he whispered. “They’re at the church.”

Pain squeezed Rick’s heart like an iron fist. His son was in danger. Only the fact that Daryl held him down in that moment kept him from leaping up in plain sight of the guard who was right now looking in their direction through the fence. His hands clenched into fists. “We have to get back to the car. Now.”

The guard moved on and they followed Daryl’s lead through the grass and bushes until they reached the shelter of some trees. Then they started to run. 

*

 

“They have dogs”, Carl whispered desperately when they heard the loud barking from the direction of the church. Somehow they had managed to stumble down the hill together and had been able to reach the little wood of birches. Right now Dean was clutching to one of the trees, trying to catch his breath. He looked about to keel over and Carl frantically tried to think of something they could do. That their pursuers had dogs meant they were practically lost. Dogs could smell them and they would hunt them down in no time as they were moving so extremely slow due to Dean’s bad condition.

He didn’t want to think about Connor right now or about the fact that whoever had attacked them here probably also knew where his dad, Daryl and the others were at this moment, because then he wouldn’t be able to do anything sensible anymore. And he wanted to safe Dean. He needed to do this. Dean was the first person in this miserable world he had ever been able to protect and he didn’t want that to change.

“Oh help”, he whispered. Then he remembered something Daryl had told him. When he’d been a boy he’d quite often been poaching with Merle. Sometimes they’d been discovered by real hunters who had set their dogs on them. Daryl had told him that they’d always been able to find water in time to get them off their trace. A stream, that was what they needed. And Carl remembered now that they had passed one on a small bridge just before getting to the church. 

“Come on, we need to hurry.” He pulled Dean with him and the young man tried his best to follow him. When Carl noticed that Dean could hardly walk anymore he pulled his arm over his shoulder and his weight made him stumble even more. He was breathing heavily now and is heart was beating fast in his chest but he wasn’t about to give up. The dogs were coming closer and he found himself silently praying. Something he hadn’t done for a very long time. But Connor and Murphy always seemed so serious, so determined when they prayed. And Dean’s prayers had brought Castiel to him after all. So it couldn’t hurt if he gave it a try.

And really: just when he’d been about to believe that they wouldn’t make it, he heard the soft gurgling noises of the stream in front of them. It gave him new strength and he hurried forward. He didn’t stop for a moment at the steep bank slope but just stumbled forward with Dean. He hurt his elbow on a stone and tumbled into the icy cold water that went up to his hip. Dean went under like a stone and Carl had to pull him up. Dean gasped for air but then he seemed to become a bit clearer. His eyes focused on Carl. “Well done, boy. We have to get to the other side.”

Together they duck deep into the water to be out of sight and fought against the current. They drifted down the stream for about twenty meters before they reached the other side. Carl threw a glance over his shoulder and saw two figures with dogs on leashes appear right where they had fallen into the stream. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder to make him turn around and they exchanged a silent look. Agreeing without words they dove underwater and swam to an area where the bank was hanging low over the water. This meant they had to stay in the water. But they were able to breathe and they would be very hard to see from the other side. They stood very close and Carl’s right hand was clutching Dean’s arm. Tense with exertion and freezing in the icy cold water they watched the two men on the other shore and the dogs running up and down the water’s edge. Finally one of the men pointed down the stream towards the bridge and Carl sighed with relief. Obviously they thought that he and Dean had crossed the stream and gotten out on the other side. He relaxed a fraction. He just had to hope they didn’t search this side of the river for too long.

*

Dean wasn’t able to feel his legs anymore. The cold made him almost unable to move and his head was throbbing. Still he tried his best to stay conscious. He couldn’t leave Carl alone. Not again. 

“How much longer do you think we’ll need to stay here?” Carl asked. After an hour they had dared to come out of their hiding place in the river and crawl into this little cave in the slope of the bank. It was still quite wet in here and rather uncomfortable but as the cave was hidden behind weeds, they were at least safe for now. And they could go back into the water if they heard dogs. 

Dean was freezing and he couldn’t stop his teeth from clattering. They were huddled close together but there was hardly any warmth to be found as they were both completely soaked. He wondered how long they’d been here and it had to be at least a few hours because he could see the pale light of dawn through the weeds.  
Dean moved to find a more comfortable position which seemed impossible. “A while longer. A few hours at least.” He thought that it would be best if they stayed until the next night but it was so cold they’d probably freeze to death until then. They had to find some place warmer. One of the houses in the village maybe. He would just have to hope that he was able to stay on his feet on the way there. The cold helped him focus but still he had to fight hard not to pass out. He was feeling so light-headed.

“I’m sorry”, he said. “I should have left your group alone. I should never have pulled you into this.”

Carl shook his head. “I understand”, he said very quietly. “I know how you feel. I had a little sister once.” He swallowed hard and fell silent for a moment. Dean listened, almost afraid of what the boy was about to tell him. He pulled him closer.

“Judith.” Carl’s voice cracked. “I would have done anything for her. I killed for her. But it wasn’t enough. She was taken from me. If anyone has a chance to get part of their family back, they should risk everything for it. Daryl, you. It’s what’s right.”

“Thanks boy”, Dean said. “You know what? You remind me a lot of Sam.” He smiled but it faded immediately when he heard a sound just outside the cave. He sat up. “What’s that?” he whispered. Something was nearing their hiding place and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

Carl carefully peaked through the weeds. “Walkers”, he whispered. “They’re trying to get through the water but the current is pulling at them. “They can probably smell us.” He pulled his knife and Dean did the same. 

“We can’t shoot at them yet”, Carl said. “The attackers will hear us. And we’ll attract other walkers.”

Dean nodded. He clutched his knife tight and then suddenly there was movement above them and something was in the cave with them. Dean saw grasping hands that clutched Carl’s arm and snapping teeth. Carl screamed and without thinking Dean struck at the creature with his knife, hitting it in the eye. Carl kicked hard against it and the dead body fell into the water beneath them. But another one was following right after and Dean realized that the whole slope must be crawling with the ugly fuckers that were trying to get to them. He heard their moaning noises, heard their hands and feet scraping over the ground. Some of them tumbled into the water but others made their way to the cave and their dead fingers reached out for them, jaws clicking, gaunt faces visible in the pale light of dawn.  
“Damn”, Dean whispered and managed to stab the next one in the forehead with his knife. But others were coming right behind and they weren’t even able anymore to push the dead body out. They were trapped.

*

Michonne stopped the car outside of the church with screeching tires. Rick and Murphy were the first to stumble out. Daryl knew that they should probably be more careful but he also knew that it was no use to tell that to his cousin and Rick. They were both afraid they had lost what was most important to them right now and nothing in the world would keep them from entering the church immediately. He was right behind them and desperation was clawing at him because he could hardly stand to see Rick like this again. This desperate, this frightened. Carl was all the man had left and Daryl knew that he would lose Rick if he had to take another blow like this. He knew he wouldn’t be able to come back from losing his son. Carl had to be alright. He just had to be.

Rick and Murphy pushed open the doors to the church and the next moment Daryl heard Rick howl, saw him fall to the ground and he thought that everything was over. He entered the church after them, expecting the worst. Rick was kneeling on the ground, his hands gliding over the red liquid covering the stone floor in front of him. Murphy was standing right next to him, completely still, his eyes glued to the floor where his brother’s rosary was lying in a puddle of blood. All color seemed to have left his face and his arms were uselessly hanging down at his sides. His gun clattered to the ground, the sound echoing from the walls of the church. 

Daryl knelt down next to Rick, pulling him away from the blood. It probably wasn’t Carl’s so there was still hope for him. He had to make him understand somehow. Cupping his face he made Rick look at him. “Carl may still be alive”, he whispered. “We need to find him. Your son needs you now, man.”

Rick’s eyes needed a moment to focus on him but when they did he took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He was shaking when Daryl pulled him up and looked at his bloody hands in horror. 

Daryl turned around to Murphy and reached out a hand to put it on his shoulder. Murphy was taut like a statue and his face so pale that Daryl was afraid for a moment he might keel over. But then Murphy moved his head to look at him. “He’s not dead”, he whispered. “Ah’d know if he was. Ah’d know in my heart.”  
Daryl nodded. There was a lot of blood on the floor and Connor had not completely recovered from being shot before. But knowing Connor’s stamina Murphy might still be right and he wouldn’t take that hope away from him. Not now when they had to focus on finding the others. As cruel as it might seem there was no time for falling apart now. He turned around to see Michonne and Castiel standing in the archway. 

Castiel had his head bowed and seemed to be concentrating hard. “They’re not far from here”, he said. “I can sense Dean.”

Rick’s head shot up. “So they’re alive?”

“They’ve probably taken the door in the vestry”, Michonne said. “Connor must have held the attackers up so they could flee.”

Murphy bent down and picked up his brother’s rosary. He put it around his neck. “Let’s look for them”, he said. “Then I’m goin’ to find Connor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I promise to be quicker next time. (If anyone's still interested in this strange story:))


	9. Loss

Daryl knelt down near the small door that led through the wall behind the church. He inspected the tracks in the dusky light. “They’ve come through here”, he said. “They left in the direction of the forest.” He led the group down the hill towards the birch trees. “There were dogs”, he whispered. “They hunted them.” He looked into Rick’s pale face that seemed even more haggard and worn than before. He clenched and unclenched his fists, as if he was trying to hold onto something. “If they were clever they went down to the river.”

“They are in danger”, Castiel whispered. He was so lost in his visions, that Michonne had to lead him along. He had his eyes closed and his strain was clearly visible in his features. It looked as if he was in pain. “We have to find them. Now.”

The next moment a gunshot rang through the night air and they all started running in the direction it had come from. They reached the river, breaking through the trees like herd of wild deer. Daryl immediately drew his crossbow when he saw the pack of walkers crawling on the bank of the other side of the river, obviously trying to get to something. Michonne and Murphy drew their guns and started shooting while Rick and Castiel threw themselves into the river, trying to get to the other side. Most of the walkers were already shot when they got there but Rick pulled one of them back and pushed his knife right through his forehead before he let him fall into the river.

“Dad!” Carl emerged from the cave that had been hidden by crawling walkers and threw himself into his father’s arms. Daryl felt weak with relief. Rick held his son close, pressing his face to Carl’s neck and Daryl could see his shoulders heaving. But Carl was alive. Everything could be alright again.  
Castiel climbed into the cave where Daryl could make out Dean’s motionless body. He wasn’t even sure if the man was still alive. Castiel held him close and he thought he saw Dean moving towards him slightly. He wanted to join Rick but his attention was caught by Murphy who turned around, walking back to the church. “Where’re you goin’?” he asked.

Murphy looked at him, his eyes bloodshot. “Gotta find Connor.”

*

“So I found myself another brother.” The man who had introduced himself as Lazarus stood directly in front of Connor and was looking down at him. “It must be my lucky day, don’t you think?”

“Sure’s hell ain’t mine”, Connor said, grimacing when another wave of pain shot through his body. His torso was naked and he was chained to the wall. He had lost a lot of blood from a shot that had gone through his thigh and he felt light-headed as a result. But he wasn’t about to show this bastard any sign of weakness. He was gleeful enough as it was. 

Lazarus laughed humorlessly. “You could say that, I guess. And then again, maybe you should see this as an honor. You and your brother are going to become gods. Isn’t that what a saint aspires to?”

“There’s only one god”, Connor said through gritted teeth. “’n he sure as hell won’t tolerate your blasphemy.”

Lazarus chuckled lowly. “Using the name of the lord and cursing in the same sentence. Some saint you are.” 

Connor inwardly apologized, knowing his mother would have wanted him to. “How d’you know we were called the saints?” he asked, pulling at his chains. But they were fastened to the wall and he knew he didn’t stand a chance to get free.

“To be honest I’ve had my eyes on you for quite a while. I had my spies in Boston.” Lazarus walked up and down in front of Connor. “You two are exactly what I wanted. The crown jewels of my little collection you could say.”

“Collection of what?”

“Of sacrifices.” Lazarus smiled as if they were talking about antiquities or rare gems. “You two remind me a lot of my brother and myself.”  
Connor frowned. “You’ve a brother?”

“I had a twin to be exact” Lazarus’ smile vanished and his destroyed face became serious, even though the scar was still pulling up his lip. “He’s not with us anymore. He became something else. Something superior. The gods wanted him. They took him from me. He’s walking with them now.”

“So you’re sayin’ he became a walker?” Connor asked. “They’re not gods. Just dead. Hope you shot ‘im in the head. Gave him his peace.”

Lazarus struck like a snake and hit him across the face so hard Connor’s head flew around and blood started gushing from his nose. He moaned and tried to blink away the stars he saw in front of his eyes. “Bloody bastard.”

“Careful what you’re saying boy.” Lazarus’ voice was cold as ice. 

Connor spat blood on the floor. “’s the truth. Yer brother’s dead. Deal with it.”

Hatred flashed in Lazarus’ eyes. “Well let’s see how you deal with your brother dying while trying to save you.”

The thought of Murphy was too much. Connor suddenly felt all his strength leave him. The room went dark before his eyes and he sank down against his chains.

*

“So tell me, what did you find out about Sam?” Dean asked not for the first time. Castiel had insisted they get them somewhere safe before they talked. Dean wasn’t sure if there was any safe place in this world. He’d felt protected in the church and look what had come of that. But this house in the village was the best they would find for now. Michonne and Daryl had secured it before the others entered and Dean was slumped on a couch now, Castiel right beside him. The angel’s hands were cupping his face and his tender healing touch felt unimaginably good after all that Dean had been through during the night. 

“Wait. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes first.”

Dean didn’t want to wait any longer and he also didn’t want to move anymore. He felt drained. But he knew how stubborn Cas could be. He wouldn’t talk before he had Dean as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. And he had to admit that getting warm was an alluring prospect. “Alright.”

Castiel immediately started to unbutton his shirt and Dean moaned inwardly. It was plain embarrassing to need help getting undressed but there was no way of denying that he depended on it right now. And glancing around the room he noticed that none of the others were even paying attention to him and Cas right now. Michonne was keeping watch at the window, Rick was busy wrapping Carl up in a blanket and Murphy was standing in the middle of the room, not moving a muscle. It seemed as if he wasn’t even really here. Daryl had managed to convince him to come along but it was more than clear that Murphy desperately wanted to be somewhere else. Just like Dean. They were wasting time here. Time Connor and Sam might not have. 

He pushed Castiels hands away when the angel started opening his belt and did it himself with shaking fingers. He was so damn cold. It felt as if the icy water was still all around him, immobilizing him. He couldn’t help shivering violently.

“It’s alright Dean, let me help you”, Castiel whispered, looking up at him, his gaze shining with worry. “You’ll feel better soon.” He helped Dean out of his wet clothes, pushing his shirt back, pulling his pants down. Then he put his hands on Dean’s chest and warmth swept through him like a wave. He sighed and closed his eyes. Right now it felt too good to move away from. Cas simply gave him what he needed. He couldn’t deny that.

“We were able to get close to the sect’s layer”, Cas said and Dean’s eyes fluttered open. “We might have tried to get Sam out tonight if Murphy and I hadn’t sensed something was wrong at the church.

“Wish you hadn’t”, Dean whispered.

“You and Carl might be dead right now. Do you really want that?” 

Dean’s eyes widened. “No, of course not. I don’t want anything to happen to the boy.”

Castiel’s hands moved up to Dean’s shoulders, rubbing warmth into them. “We’ll get Sam out. And Connor. It’s not impossible.”

Dean felt something soft touch his torso and looked up. Daryl had put a blanket on top of him. Castiel immediately started tucking him in.

“Thanks”, Dean whispered and watched Daryl walk over to his cousin. He didn’t say anything to Murphy but put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a bottle of whiskey. Murphy shook his head. He finally left his spot in the middle of the room and moved over to a chair by the table, stiffly sitting down. He took out his knife and started carving something into the wood of the tabletop. Dean’s fatigue finally overwhelmed him and he fell asleep watching Murphy. 

When Dean woke up the next morning Castiel was right next to him, holding him close. As embarrassing as it was he had to admit he felt a lot better. He was warm again and there was no more pain in his body. He felt almost refreshed like after a long massage followed by a wonderfully warm bath. He was thirsty however. 

Looking around he saw that almost everyone was asleep. Only Murphy was awake, sitting in the same position in his chair as yesterday and Daryl was on the other side of the table, watching the street outside in the dim light of dusk and throwing worried glances at his cousin every now and then. 

Dean slowly got up and moved over to the water bottle on the table. He saw what Murphy had been carving into the table. Some kind of prayer apparently. It started with the words “And shepherds we shall be.” 

*

“I know we should wait but I can’t hold ‘im back any longer. He’ll go alone and I don’t want him to.” Daryl hated seeing Rick this distraught but there really was no other way. Murphy was determined and he understood him.

“Me neither.” Rick was pacing on the small verandah of the house. He stopped in front of Daryl who was leaning against the banister, anxiously looking at him. “But Murphy’s still weak. Just like Dean. Our chances would be better if we waited a few more days.”

“Also the chances that they find us here. We can’t even be sure they’re not watchin’ us right now.”

Rick put his hands to his hips and looked down. “It seems crazy just going in there. They might anticipate our every move.”

“We have no other chance. ‘s not the first time we risk somethin’ like that. You walked right into Woodbury just to get me back.”

Rick’s gaze softened. “I know. And I’d do the same again. I understand Dean and Murphy, really I do. I wouldn’t want to wait if it was you in there, Daryl.”

“We might stand a chance if we follow our plan. You distract them while the three of us get in from behind. We find Sam’n Murphy and get them out. It’s our best chance.”

Rick let his head fall back. “Daryl. Is there really no other way than you going with them?”

“Connor’s my cousin. He’s family. I have to help Murphy get ‘im out.”

Rick turned around, his hands gripping the banister tight. “We’re your family too. You belong with us. We wanted to get to Canada, don’t you remember?” 

“Rick, ‘f it was you in there I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute either. You know that.”

Rick turned around to face him, his eyes aflame. Daryl was amazed that the fact he was about to put himself into danger did this to his friend. He’d known that he was important for Rick, but he hadn’t realized how important. Rick’s hand took hold of his wrist. “I don’t want you to go in there, don’t you understand? It’s enough, Daryl. You’ve done enough. You don’t have to risk your life anymore.”

“Yes, I do.” Daryl said softly. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Rick shook his head. “That’s not enough. Promise you’ll come back.”

Daryl looked down. 

“You intend to sacrifice yourself, right? So that the two of them can get their brothers back. Because you can’t be with yours anymore.”

Daryl avoided Rick’s eyes. “’s not what I want.”

“But it’s what’s gonna happen.” Rick stepped closer and brought his face up to Daryl’s. “That Merle’s dead doesn’t mean you don’t have a future. I want you to remember that you could have a life with me.”

Daryl looked up, met Rick’s steel blue gaze. It was the first time one of them had mentioned that there might be something between them, something deep. Warmer than friendship, more complex than brotherhood. He felt a shiver run down his spine. “I’ll remember that.”

Rick leaned forward and for the blink of an eye his dry warm lips touched Daryl’s. It was over so quick that Daryl wasn’t even sure he hadn’t imagined it. 

“Come back.” Rick whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really so happy and surprised this story has found quite some readers. Thanks guys!


	10. We Shall Burn

“None of your business”, Connor whispered. “He didn’t want to talk at all, he wanted Lazarus to go away and leave him alone but he knew that wouldn’t happen. And the strange substance he had been forced to take was burning in his veins, fighting his will to be silent.

“Come on tell me.” Lazarus was seated in a chair in front of him, watching him patiently. “If Murphy was here with you, what would you want to do to him?”  
“Ah wouldn’t want ‘im here.”

Lazarus raised his eyebrows. “But you want to be with him, am I not right?”

Connor sighed. “Yes.” He didn’t have the strength anymore to deny it.

“You want to feel his breath on your skin. You want to see the look he reserves only for you. You want to kiss the tattoo across his hand. You want to touch him in ways you’re not allowed to touch your brother.”

Connor remained silent, his face contorted in pain.

“It’s sin”, Lazarus spat. “The two of you are sinners.”

Connor clenched his teeth. “No we’re not.”

Lazarus struck him across the face and he could feel his lip splitting. He tasted blood again. Still he looked up at Lazarus, meeting his gaze. “God made us the way we are.”

Lazarus’ face was burning with hatred now, his lips pulled back, revealing sharp teeth. “You’re an abomination in the eye of the lord. You’ll burn in hell.” 

Connor didn’t back down. “So tell me, did you feel the same way for yer brother? Did you tell yerself it was sin and never told ‘im how you felt? Did you push ‘im away and let ‘im die alone?”

Once again Lazarus’ fist hit him hard and for a moment he thought he’d pass out. But unfortunately that didn’t happen and he had to go on listening to the man blabbering about hellfire. He bowed his head again and said a silent prayer for Murphy. He knew chances were bad that Murphy would keep away from him but he could still ask the lord for his brother’s safety. They’d never sworn to each other that neither would leave the other behind. They hadn’t needed to because it was understood. But now he wished there was a possibility Murphy would survive even without him. He had Daryl, he had the group. Still Connor knew deep in his heart that Murphy would come for him. And he dreaded it. Because Lazarus was expecting him.

“What do you want to do with your brother?” Lazarus hissed. “Tell me.”

Connor looked up to the ceiling of the room. His eyes were burning but there was no way he would ever show the man in front of him a single tear. “I want to hold ‘im”, he whispered. “I want to tell him not to come here.” He swallowed hard. “And ah want to tell him he was born first. Cause he always wanted to hear that." 

*

Michonne stopped the SUV about half a mile away from the casern and looked back over her shoulder. The black Landrover came to a halt right behind them and Daryl and Murphy got out, walking up to them. She held the steering wheel tight for a moment and breathed in deeply. She knew there was no way around this anymore as much as she wished there was. They all got out of the car, meeting in a close circle behind the SUV, sheltered by trees and the darkness. She looked once more at the group she’d come to see as her family. Rick had one arm around his son’s shoulders and was standing close to Daryl. Murphy and Dean looked determined and she knew there was no way in hell to make them change their minds about what they were going to do. Dean looked better than she’d expected him to be. There was no fever shining in his eyes and the night he’d spent soaked and freezing obviously hadn’t made him worse. She remembered that Castiel had spent most of the night awake next to him, his hands on Dean’s forehead or above his heart. Obviously there was some truth about his healing powers. She just hoped they wouldn’t go to waste.

Daryl looked at Rick. “Remember, you’re only to distract them. Fire some shots and drive away. Don’t put yerselves into danger.”  
“You’re one to talk”, Rick said. 

“Rick…” Daryl looked at him almost pleadingly and not for the first time Michonne asked herself what was really going on between them. “We know what we have to do”, she said. “Meeting point is the first road sign to Lynn. We’ll meet you there.”

“Don’t wait too long”, Dean said quietly. 

Rick’s head shot up. “We’ll wait until you get there.”

“Wait for an hour”, Murphy said. “If we’re not there then we didn’t make it.”

Michonne knew that Rick wanted to object but he remained silent. He knew as well as she did that it was possible they would leave the area of Boston in a group of three. Castiel was to take Dean, Murphy and Daryl to the other side of the fence and wait for them in the Landrover. Knowing him however he would go looking for them if they didn’t come back. And that would probably be the end of him. It was hard watching their fellow fighters leave on a suicide mission like that. Especially Daryl. But she knew they had no other choice.

“Good luck”, she said. “We’ll wait three hours.”

Before the group of four went over to the Landrover she saw Rick’s and Daryl’s hands touching. Their fingers intertwined for a moment before they let go.

*  
Dean couldn’t help but feel relieved when the Landrover stopped at the other side of the fence. Come what may he would be with Sam in a few moments. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get him out of there but at least he’d be with his brother again. He wasn’t really scared, not anymore. All he could feel deep inside of him was regret that they might not have a lot of time left with each other. 

“Good bye Cas”, he whispered. “I’m glad you found me.” He leaned over to the angel to hug him and felt Castiel’s arms around him. And he was surprised to find the angel was crying. He hadn’t even known angels were able to do that. “Please let me come with you”, he whispered.

Dean shook his head. “We need someone to get us out of here quickly when we come back. We might not be able to drive a car you know.”

Castiel’s hands clutched his shirt as if he didn’t want to let go. “Watch out. He’s probably expecting you.”

Dean sighed. “I know. I’ll get Sammy out. I promise.”

He followed Daryl and Murphy out of the car, carrying the axe they had found in the shed of one of the houses in the town. Murphy had the wire cutter they would use to get through the fence and Daryl had his crossbow drawn. They crept up to the fence as close as they dared to, still staying hidden behind some bushes. Then they heard the shots from the distance, indicating that Rick, Carl and Michonne had started their diversion.

“Let’s go”, Daryl whispered. 

Dean felt cold sweat on his forehead but it was less from fear than from anticipation. There was only one thought at the moment that really frightened him: What if Sam wasn’t here anymore? What if he’d already been sacrificed or simply killed because the sect had been mad at him and Carl for escaping? What if he’d never see Sam again?

He tried to move forward as quietly as possible and he already heard the commotion at the other side of the casern. People were shouting, shots rang out. “Let’s hope the others are already gone”, he whispered.

“We need to hurry”, Murphy said. They crouched down at the fence and Murphy cut a hole, big enough for them to get through. Daryl went first and Dean followed Murphy through the hole, glancing back over his shoulder. It wasn’t easy, leaving Cas behind. More difficult than he’d thought, in fact. The thought of never seeing him again made him shiver deep inside, made his heart ache, but there was no time to worry about that now because the bunker where Sam was kept and hopefully Connor appeared right in front of them. To their left there was another barrack, but the diversion seemed to have worked and there was no one in sight. They heard more gunshots not far away and it was clear they had to move quickly. When they approached the bunker Dean saw that there was indeed still one guard keeping watch at the entrance. 

Daryl motioned for them to stay back and took him out with one well placed bolt. They moved forward quickly and Murphy knelt down next to the dead body, removing a key from his pocket. Luckily it fit the lock of the heavy door and Dean and Murphy went in, while Daryl kept watch outside. 

“Sam?” Dean called out quietly and was answered by a soft moan from the other end of the bunker. Murphy lit a torch and shone it around the room and a moment later Dean was right next to his brother. Sam was a mess. He was half naked and bleeding from several wounds. His arms were tied above his head and there was cold sweat all over is body. But he was definitely alive and that was almost more than Dean had hoped for. For a moment his legs threatened to give away under him with relief but he told himself that he had to keep going if he wanted to get Sam out of here. 

“I’m here, Sammy”, he whispered, putting both hands on his brothers shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’m getting you out.”

“Dean?” Sam lifted his head and it was plain to see that meant a lot of effort. “You shouldn’t have come. He’s evil.”

“Don’t worry about that now, we’ll be gone in a moment. I just have to get you free.”

Murphy was right next to him and Dean took the axe from him. He struck it against the chain on the wall and put all his desperation into the blow. And not only did he manage to break the chain but the shaft of the axe broke, the blade cluttering to the floor. Sam was free and Dean couldn’t believe his luck. He bent down to pull his brother up. Only then did it cross his mind that something wasn’t right. Connor wasn’t here.

“We’ll find him”, he told Murphy who was now helping him support Sam who could hardly keep himself upright. 

Murphy nodded. “You can take Sam to the car but I’m not leaving without Connor.” 

At the same moment they heard an explosion from the outside and dragging Sam along between them they hurried for the door. The scenery had changed drastically. The building to their left was ablaze with fire, the flames coloring the night sky purple and red. Smoke was already making it hard to breathe.

A hooded figure stepped out from the shadow of a few large barrels and came towards them. “Just as I expected. The brothers coming back to claim their beloved ones. I am touched.”

Daryl immediately pointed his bow at the speaker. “Stop right there.”

The man raised his hands to show that he was not carrying any weapons but he kept coming closer. “It’s good to see you”, he said with a slight bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lazarus.”

Daryl quickly approached him, moving as supple as a snake and pointed the arrow in his bow to his temple. “Stop wasting our time”, he snarled. “Where is Connor?”  
Lazarus smiled. “Welcome to the great finale.”

*

Even before Lazarus’ head turned towards the flames Murphy knew where his brother was. He knew because he felt the flames burning his skin, the smoke stinging his eyes more than it was possible from this distance. 

“Connor”

He let go of Dean’s brother and Sam grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go in there”, he whispered, hardly able to speak. “That’s suicide.”

“Have to get my brother”, Murphy answered. He exchanged one more look with Daryl and saw defeat in his cousin’s eyes. Daryl knew there was no holding him back.   
Murphy moved towards the burning building without a moment’s hesitation. The heat of the flame was nothing compared to the pain he was already feeling inside, the pain of knowing that his brother was suffering. He started running and held his breath before he pulled his coat over his hand to open the door. The handle was glowing with heat but luckily the building wasn’t locked. He could practically feel Lazarus’ eyes following him. There was no doubt the man had planned for this to happen. He’d anticipated their every move and the only reason they had been able to get in here was because he wanted to see this. He wanted to watch him and Connor burn together.

There wasn’t a lot of time. The building had probably been drenched in oil before it had been set on fire. It was burning too fast, too aggressive. The smoke was making it impossible to see and the heat was already blistering his skin.

“Connor where are you?” he shouted and coughed when smoke got into his lungs.

“Murphy, get out!” Connor sounded desperate, enraged even. “You can’t help me, get out of here!”

Murphy was almost blinded now and he had one arm in front of his face, to protect himself from the smoke, but his brother’s words were enough to draw him in his direction. Just like Sam Connor was half naked and his hands were chained to the wall. He looked worse than Murphy had ever seen him. His face was almost unrecognizable, swollen and bloody. A pool of blood had formed underneath him and he was hanging in his chains as if all strength had left him. He didn’t even raise his head when Murphy knelt down next to him. “Get out”, he whispered.

“Not without you.”

“Ah’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Well then I am neither.”

“Murphy. It’s too late. Leave.”

“D’you really think I’d let you get to heaven first that easily? Always have to be first, huh? But not this time, brother.” 

“D’you have a key?” Connor choked and coughed, desperately gasping for breath in the smoke filled air.

“No, but that’s not gonna stop me. You pulled a toilet from the wall once just to save me, remember?”

Murphy got up and grabbed the left chain. He put one foot against the wall and pulled until he thought his arms might rip from his body. The veins in his neck stood out and the skin of his hands almost tore. And finally a crack appeared in the concrete wall before him, that was dried out by the heat and with another pull the chain came lose. Murphy fell to the ground but immediately got back up. He looked at his brother triumphantly but Connor didn’t react. His arm that had been held by the chain had sunk to the ground and Connor wasn’t moving. Murphy wasn’t even sure his brother was breathing anymore. The flames were coming closer, threatening to devour them any second.

“No!” Murphy cried. He grabbed the second chain with bloody hands and this time he was almost sure he wouldn’t make it, because his strength was leaving him and there was simply no more air. His lungs were contorting already and his head began to swim.

“Even when I walk in the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil for You are with me”, he choked out, about to kneel down next to Connor and take his last breath with him.

But then the chain broke loose and for a second Murphy stared at it, not able to believe what he saw. Then he sank down next to Connor and felt for his pulse. It was faint but definitely there. He picked his brother up and dragged him towards the door. The heat was unbearable now, flames licking at them, and he had to suppress the constant urge to cough so as not to get more of the poisoned air into his lungs but somehow he managed to reach the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I won't take long this time!


	11. Out of Hell

Daryl couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the two figures stumbling out of the inferno. He hadn’t dared to believe that anybody could be able to make it out of there alive. Lazarus hissed at them. Dean let Sam sink to the ground and rushed to help Murphy. Together they pulled Connor away from the fire and laid him down. Murphy fell forward unto his hands and knees, retching and coughing his lungs out. Daryl could see that they were both pretty bad off, but they were alive. The two of them actually had to be favorites of the lord. Still, he wasn’t sure Connor would be able to make it. He was not moving and his breathing was faint and irregular.

“You stay back”, Daryl growled at the armed men who were now starting to gather around them. “One wrong move and your leader’s goin’ to find himself with my arrow through his fuckin’ head.” 

“Do as he says”, Lazarus instructed, his eyes still on Connor and Murphy. Daryl could feel his disappointment and anger oozing from him. He had wanted to see the twins burn to ashes, that much was clear. And he was more than enraged that his plan hadn’t worked out. And Daryl had noticed another thing. Lazarus didn’t want to die. Even though he had practically put himself at Daryl’s mercy, his life was still important to him, especially now that his plan hadn’t worked out. Lazarus wanted to survive, maybe more than he himself had thought and Daryl was more than willing to use that to their advantage.

“You don’t want me to put that bolt right through yer head, best do what I tell you”, he said. “Tell yer men to let my people go.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Lazarus snarled. “You think I’ll just let them walk out of here?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re fond of yer life.” He pushed the tip of the arrow hard against Lazarus’ temple and the man flinched. “As soon as your men harm one of mine you’re dead. If they shoot me you’re dead anyway.”

Lazarus was silent for a moment. Murphy was still coughing, clutching his throat and Sam was starting to crawl towards them on all fours. Connor seemed extremely weak but he was still breathing. Daryl started to feel elevated at the thought that he might actually be able to get them out.

“What about you?” Lazarus asked. “Are you planning to stay like this forever? With an arrow to my temple?”

“No. Soon as they’re gone I’ll let you go.”

“So that means you stay here. You die for them.”

Daryl didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how Rick had been able to anticipate this but obviously he had. He regretted now that they had let every chance of getting closer pass. He wished there had been more than one short kiss he had almost missed. But at least he had that memory.

“No Daryl”, Murphy said, looking up at them. “Don’t.”

“Get Connor out.” Daryl said calmly. “He’s not well. He needs help.”

Murphy looked at Connor. He looked extremely pale in the moonlight and he was lying completely still. His breathing was labored and his pain was visible in his features. The skin of his right side had blistered where flames had hit him. He was in a really bad shape. 

Murphy slowly got up and took his brother in his arms. Dean also rose, helping Sam up, not taking his eyes off Daryl.

“Tell Rick I’m sorry” Daryl said. 

*  
Leaving Daryl behind was the hardest thing Murphy had ever done, but he saw no other way. Connor’s breathing was getting shallower and his pulse was faint. He was going to die if he didn’t get help soon and Murphy put all his hope on the angel. If Castiel wasn’t able to do something for Connor his chances of surviving were extremely low. He knew that. So he dragged Connor over to the hole in the fence, constantly whispering to him, telling him not to give up, to stay with him. 

He threw a backwards glance at Daryl and it hurt his heart to see him watching them escape and actually smiling, because they were free. He swore that they’d come back for him and he knew that he wouldn’t need to convince Rick this time.

He was the first to get to the fence and Castiel was already waiting for them, eyes wide, pale with fear. His relief was clearly visible in his features when he saw Sam and Dean had made it. 

Murphy scrambled through the fence with Castiel’s help and knelt down with his brother in his arms. “You have to help him”, he said, looking up at Castiel. “He was in a burning building. He breathed in a lot of smoke and he was shot again.”

“I hope I can”, Castiel said, kneeling down next to them. “I will ask for help from the lord.” He put one hand on Connor’s forehead and one on his chest and his lips moved quietly. Murphy closed his eyes, clutching his brother’s hand, and prayed silently. Connor couldn’t die. Not now after they had gotten out of Boston, after he’d freed him from Lazarus, after Daryl had sacrificed himself for them.

The following minutes were the longest in Murphy’s life. He could almost feel Connor getting weaker in his arms, slipping away from him and from this earth. He didn’t move anymore and a coldness was creeping into him that made Murphy shiver in fear. He had seen the signs of death on others so often but now he refused to acknowledge them, even though Connor was hardly breathing anymore and he couldn’t feel a heartbeat when he put his shaking hand on his brother’s chest next to Castiel’s. Murphy didn’t even know he was crying, silent tears wetting his face. The darkness surrounded them like a black veil and he thought that he never wanted to see the sun rise, never wanted to see light again if it was without his brother. 

And then finally he felt a kind of warmth emanating from Castiel’s hand on Connor’s chest and the fingers of Connor’s hand that Murphy was still holding twitched once. His eyelids started to flutter. Castiel slowly moved both hands over Connor’s lungs and Connor finally took a deep, ragged breath that sounded as if his lungs couldn’t remember how to breathe anymore. Then his eyes flew open and he started wheezing and gasping for breath as if there still wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. Murphy propped him up and stroked his back, while his brother was coughing his lungs out. Finally Connor seemed to be able to breathe again and he sank back into Murphy’s arms weakly.

Murphy looked at Castiel, his eyes burning. “Thank you.”

“It is not really me you have to thank”, Castiel said. “My lord decided that it was not your brother’s time yet. I was just a vessel for his power.”

“Thank you anyway. You really are an angel.”

“Well done, Cas”, Dean said, stepping closer. 

Murphy turned his head when he heard noises coming from the woods. Breaking of small twigs, rustling of leaves. Something was coming towards them without trying to be quiet.

Dean turned to the car, supporting Sam. “Walkers. We have to move.”

Murphy and Castiel pulled Connor up and followed Dean to the Landrover. They had just managed to close the doors behind them, when a group of five biters emerged from the wood. Dean started the engine. 

*

“Where’s Daryl?” was the first thing Rick asked, when the Landrover drove up to them. But he didn’t really have to ask, he’d known from the second he’d seen there were only five people in the car. Hell, he’d probably known before, when Daryl had decided that he would go in with Dean and Murphy. They’d been waiting for the others for about an hour at the road sign to Lynn, nervous and tense, every minute dragging like an hour. When they’d seen the headlights in the distance, Rick had gotten out of the SUV, walking towards them. There were walkers around and it was dangerous but he wasn’t able to sit still any longer. Michonne made Carl stay seated. 

Murphy and Dean got out of the car, their heads bowed. “Daryl stayed back”, Murphy said quietly.

“He helped us escape”, Dean offered.

Murphy looked up and found Rick’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

Rick’s fists clenched. He turned around and walked a few meters into the field. For a moment he stood completely still. Then he threw his head back and cried out to the night sky.

Carl was out of the car and running up to his father in mere seconds, before Michonne could even attempt to hold him back. 

He put his arms around Rick from behind. “Dad, we’re going to get Daryl back. We’re not leaving without him.”

Rick put his hands on his son’s. “Yes. We’re going to get him back.”

*

“So what trouble have ye gotten yerself into this time, worthless little shit?”

Daryl heard his brother’s voice before he opened his eyes. The pain in his abused body was so violent he found it hard to focus. He’d been drifting in and out for awhile now and he felt that he was closer to dying than ever before in his life. It wasn’t so much the wounds, they weren’t even that bad. But he’d somehow lost his will to survive. What good was it if he was to be fed to the walkers anyway? He’d rather die now than experience being eaten alive. He could feel his strength leaving his body and some part of him wanted to give in, wanted this to be over. 

Merle’s figure was blurry for a while, but then he could finally make him out. His brother was sitting on the stone floor in one corner of the room, one knee propped up, watching him intently. He was playing with something in his right hand, moving it between his fingers but Daryl couldn’t make out what it was. He noticed however that something was strange, wrong about this.

“Merle”, he whispered, his lips so dry he could hardly get the words out.

“Damn right it’s me. So you finally reached your big goal, huh?” Merle asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Sacrificed yer stupid ass fer the sake of yer good fer nothin’ group. Bunch of assholes’n loonies is what they are.”

“’t was my decision.” Daryl grimaced with pain. “Wanted to.”

“Yeah, sounds just like the stupid thang my pansy little brother would do. You know what? Yer gonna die here. And yer gonna die alone. They’ve probably forgotten all about yer stupid redneck ass already. Ain’t no one gonna come back fer you.”

Daryl managed a weak smile. “You’re here.”

“Hell yeah. That’s what I always told ya, baby brother. I’m the only one who’s ever gonna look out fer you.” Merle kept moving the small object he held between his hands.

“Ay and you did. Ah know you did. Gave us a chance. Sacrificed yerself, too.”

Merle’s face fell. “Fuckin’ didn’t.”

“Fuckin’ did.”

“Stop that right now. Got a really big mouth fer someone up to his neck in shit.”

“Don’t care. I’ll be with you soon.”

Merle got up. “That why you did it?”

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Maybe”

Merle walked over to him slowly until he was so close Daryl had to crane his neck to look up at him. He couldn’t really read Merle’s face right now. Some place in his mind was trying to tell him that Merle was just an illusion, that he wasn’t alive anymore and there was no way he was really talking to his brother. But the pain and the drugs he’d been forced to take made him seem so real, even more real than his chains or the pain he was feeling from the bleeding cuts on his back and arms.  
Merle frowned at him. “What ‘f I tell you I don’t want yer lily white ass here with me yet?”

“Wouldn’t believe you. Always wanted me with you. We belong together, remember? One blood. ‘S what you always told me.”

Merle leaned against the wall with one hand. “Not this time. No room fer ya here yet.”

“But I wanna be with you.”

He could see a deep crease forming between his brother’s eyes. “Well, that’s just you bein’ a pussy once again. Some asshole catches you, pricks you with his knife a bit and you whine about chickenin’ out. Ain’t happenin’ baby bro. You pull yer shit together an’ fight, ye hear me? Get out of that fancy dress’n be a man about it.”

“Ain’t no use. They’re gonna feed me to the fuckin’ walkers.”

“Well, ain’t over yet, so quit whinin’, grow some balls an’ pull yer shit together. No use in kickin’ the bucket now. ‘s not how I raised ya.” 

Daryl could see now what Merle was holding in his hand. It was a bullet. Probably the bullet he had been shot with by the governor. He held it in the hand that he’d cut off himself on the rooftop. There was no doubt about him being an illusion now. Daryl swallowed hard. “Should never have let you go alone. I wanna follow you.”

Merle shook his head and the look in his eyes changed again. Daryl almost thought he saw affection in them. “Not yer time yet baby brother.”

Daryl still looked up at him. “Where are you Merle? ‘s it a good place?”

But his brother’s vision was fading now. It became lucent and finally disappeared.

“No”, Daryl whispered, his head falling forward. “Merle…”

He hardly noticed that the door opened and Lazarus was back with his knife and his belt and his hatred. 

*

So this was how it was going to end. Daryl had to admit to himself that he’d hoped for something different. He had not wanted to die like this. But at least his death wasn’t in vain. He wished he could see the others once more or at least know what they were doing right now. They were probably on their way to Canada. He knew that it was hard for Rick that he hadn’t come back but he hoped that this was a loss the man would get over. He had his son after all. And he knew that Daryl had chosen this. Still, leaving Rick behind was his biggest regret in this world.

He was in the back of a pick-up truck, his limbs bound and every bump in the road made him cringe with pain. He was in a bad shape because Lazarus had taken his anger about his failed plan out on him. Still he’d had it worse. Lazarus was still nothing in comparison to his old man’s beatings when he’d been a child. The blows hadn’t really gotten to him, because the physical pain was nothing compared to his inner turmoil.

For a while he had been frightened that the group would come back for him. He knew that they didn’t stand a chance. He was too well guarded. After three days he’d started to believe that the others had done the sensible thing and left. He was relieved. 

And now his time had come. Lazarus had told him again and again how they’d tie him up and wait around until the walkers got to him. In the end he would be eaten up by the stinking slimy bastards he’d spent the last years fighting. And worse than that: he would become one of them. That was the thought that really got to him. In their group there’d always been the silent agreement that they’d never let this happen to each other. He knew that Rick would have been merciful and killed him if he’d ever been bitten. Same as Daryl had done for Merle. But Rick wasn’t around anymore and Daryl was condemned to spend the rest of his wretched days as one of the rotten creatures he hated more than anything in the world. Apart from the governor and Lazarus maybe. Lazarus had even told him that he would be set free after he turned so he would stumble around, hungering for human flesh. 

Oh how he wished he could just be shot in the head and die in peace.

Instead he was out here with Lazarus and four of his men, being driven off to a place in the middle of nowhere, far removed from the casern. The pick-up finally stopped and two men pulled him from the cargo area while the two others pointed their guns at him. They were still treating him like a dangerous enemy, even though he was too weak to fight back or even resist.

He was forced to kneel down in front of a tree that had a broken crossed nailed to its bark. Two men bound him to the trunk so tight his wrists started to bleed. Already he heard walkers making their way through the trees towards them, moaning and gurgling. He clenched his jaws, looking up at Lazarus who was now standing in front of him. 

“So how does it feel, having sacrificed yourself for a group that didn’t even try to come back for you?” Lazarus asked. “I must admit I had expected more. But we watched them. They immediately took off in the direction of Lynn. Canada, right? That’s where they want to go.”

“They did the right thing”, Daryl said, squinting against the autumn sun.

“Doesn’t seem like they missed you much”, Lazarus continued. “Did you know you were that expendable to them?”

The words stung, even though Daryl knew they shouldn’t. Rick had made the right decision. He had wanted for Daryl to come along, he’d pleaded for him to come back, but Daryl had made his own choice. He just hoped that Rick understood, that he still knew that their bond had meant everything to him.

“Answer me!” Lazarus commanded. “Don’t you regret your sacrifice now?”

“No”, Daryl said, looking straight at Lazarus. “Not at all. Only thing I regret is that I didn’t fuckin’ put that arrow through your head.” 

Lazarus looked ready to strike but moved a step backwards instead, a smile tugging at is lips. “Well you won’t have long to regret it. I hear them coming already.”  
And indeed, Lazarus was right. Behind the man he saw two walkers stumbling through the trees in their direction. And a bustle of twigs and leaves further off told him there were more to come. They were ugly as hell and Daryl just hoped it would be over quickly. He didn’t want to have to watch them gnawing at his body for long. Didn’t want to have to feel it…

The next thing Daryl heard were five shots ringing out almost at the exact same moment. Lazarus’ gaze froze, his mouth fell open and he sank to the ground like a stone. His men fell over merely seconds apart, all of them hit by extremely well placed head shots.

Daryl couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Rick approaching from the trees, closely followed by Murphy, Dean and Michonne. Rick shot the two walkers that were still stumbling towards Daryl and hurried to kneel down beside him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes raking over Daryl’s face and body, taking in his black eye and the bruises on his arms.

Daryl still couldn’t believe he wasn’t imagining things, but Rick’s cool hand on his bruised cheek felt very real. “Yeah I’m fine”, he rasped. “What the hell’re you doin’ here? You should be on your way to Canada right now.”

Michonne stepped up next to them. “You didn’t honestly think we’d leave you behind, stupid redneck.” She was smiling. 

Rick pulled his knife to cut Daryl’s bonds and helped him get up. Without hesitating for even a moment he pulled Daryl into a hug and buried his head on his shoulder. It felt as if he never wanted to let him go again. Daryl felt his arms tight around him and his breath on his neck and thought that this was really worth being alive. He put his arms around Rick and pulled him closer.

“How’d you know where they’d take me?” Daryl asked, looking up. 

“Castiel.” Rick said at the same moment the angel stepped out from the trees. “He was able to see you, so we could track you here.”  
“What about Connor and Sam? Everything alright with Carl?”

“They’re fine. They stayed in the SUV. Connor’n Sam are still recovering but they’ll make it.” 

Daryl felt relief wash over him like a wave. He pulled back a little, looking Rick in the eyes. “I’m glad”, he said. “I’m glad I’m back with you.”

“So, Canada?” Rick asked, his eyes warm and smiling.

Daryl nodded. “Canada.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took a while. Thanks for your patience!


	12. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile since I updates but I haven't forgotten this story.

“So we’re going to rest here for a few days?” Daryl asked. He was sprawled out on one side of a double bed, Rick sitting next to him and disinfecting the cuts on his back. Lazarus had obviously enjoyed enforcing his little mind games with the use of a knife and a belt. Rick shrank away from the thought of how much Daryl had probably endured during the three days he spent with the Church of Doom. Scratch marks around his neck showed that he was apparently nearly choked to death, his underarms had been cut open which had led to extreme blood loss and new scars had appeared on his back. Rick was just thankful they’d finally put a bullet through the head of the sect’s sick leader.

“That’s the plan”, Rick said.

“We’re not only stayin’ here because you think I need the rest, right?” Daryl flinched when Rick touched a piece of cloth drenched in iodine to his skin. “Cause I’m fine.”  
Rick sighed. “No Daryl. This it’s not only because of you. Sam and Connor need the rest as well. Hell, we all do. Even though it would be okay if something was just about you for once. After all you’ve done for us.”

“’s nothin’ you wouldn’t have done.”

They had found the house they were currently staying in while passing through New Hampshire and the area of the White Mountains. It was a lodge that had apparently been used as some kind of holiday domicile by someone with a lot of money. That someone had obviously been quite fond of his or her solitude as the lodge was removed from any village or town. They’d found it by accident when they’d had to move around a road block. It had a giant fence around it, not strong enough to hold up against a herd, but keeping the large grounds pleasantly walker free for now. The gate had been closed but not locked, allowing them to drive in here with their cars. It hadn’t taken long for Michonne, Murphy and Rick to get rid of the few walkers that were stumbling around the grounds and were trapped inside the house while the others waited in the cars. 

The house was comfortable and more rustic than luxurious. There was a reasonable stash of canned food in the basement and fireplaces in almost every room, probably in case the heating failed. It could get extremely cold here during winter. And the best thing was an emergency backup generator which was still working. All in all finding this place had been an unexpected strike of luck. And as Rick put it, it would be stupid not to take advantage of it for a while; given the condition a good number of their group was in right now. They did need some time to recover. 

They had driven for a whole day and night to get away from the Church of Doom, even though they doubted that they would follow them now their leader was dead. The long trip had taken a toll on their wounded. This was their sanctuary for now. 

Rick was finished, cleaning Daryl’s wounds and started to bandage him. Daryl sat up to make it easier for him. “Really wasn’t sure you’d come back for me”, he said. “Hoped you wouldn’.”

Rick paused for a minute and caught Daryl’s eye. “I can’t believe you doubted us for even a minute. Murphy and Connor would never have left without you, just like me.”  
“Still, I’d have understood.”

“I know. That’s how you get into these situations. Because you never waste a thought on yourself.” Rick’s hands that were tying the bandage around Daryl’s torso were very gentle, softly caressing his skin where they touched. And Daryl felt himself tense. He’d thought that he’d be derived of the feeling of being close to Rick forever and being chained to the wall in the bunker of the army base, he’d often thought about it. Longed for it. But now he couldn’t bring himself to relax. He even wished that Rick would stop, because he just couldn’t take it. There were goose bumps on his skin where Rick touched him and shivers were running down his spine. He had to resist the constant urge to bolt. No one had ever been allowed to get this close to him up to now. Merle had been the only person whose touch he could bear without flinching or moving away. And he could count the rare occasions Merle had been really kind to him in any way on the fingers of one hand. Usually he’d only ever touched him when they were having a row. And it felt awkward for him to have Rick being this gentle with him now and making him feel good.

“You know I meant what I said”, Rick whispered in his ear. “I want there to be a future for us.”

Daryl swallowed hard. He wanted to be with Rick, but he didn’t know if he would ever be able to meet his expectations. Yes, he was a good fighter and he could hunt well enough to keep them fed. Most of the time he could now see that he was a valuable member of their group. He was able to protect them and it slowly sank in that Rick really needed him. But what Rick was talking about now, a relationship … he really wasn’t sure if he could handle anything like that, if he could be a partner for anybody. He‘d thought about it and hadn’t been able to come to a conclusion. There had never been a romantic relationship in his whole life. The only person he’d ever felt close to was Merle and their connection had always been screwed up, even though he’d loved Merle with all his heart and knew that despite his rough ways Merle had loved him, too. 

But he had no basis to start from, nothing to look back to for help on how to do this. People usually annoyed or alienated him or at least they made him feel awkward. It was better with their group but he still liked to stay out of the center of attention, to keep his guard up. Even now in a group he felt as comfortable with as he had never before, he saw himself as kind of an outsider.

He didn’t want to disappoint Rick and it made him almost panic that he might destroy the friendship they had by screwing this up.

“Yes, me too” he said coarsely, putting his hand on Rick’s. “I … I just don’t know how to do this. I’m not sure’f I can.”

He swallowed hard, hoping that his hesitation didn’t put Rick off, but the other man leaned forward and kissed his neck gently. “We’ll just take it slow. See where this road leads us. Alright?

Daryl closed his eyes. “Alright.”

*

“Told ya to stop treatin’ me like some invalid”, Connor said and moved away from Murphy who had automatically put his arm around his brother’s waist to support him when they’d gotten to the stairs. The next moment Connor stumbled against the banister, because he’d lost his balance and hit it with the burned left side of his body. “Oh, fuck”, he groaned

Murphy chuckled. “Serves you right. Jus’ let me help you, idiot. You’re weak as a maiden in distress right now. Might’s well admit it.”

“Stop gloatin’. ‘m not weak. Never am.” But Connor didn’t protest again when Murphy took his arm. He led his brother into the room they’d picked for themselves and helped him lie down on the bed, Connor constantly cursing lowly in the process. Then he finally stretched out on the clean sheets. “Know what? ’s not half bad having a real bed an’ a soft mattress. Should’ve moved rooms when we had the chance in Boston.”

Murphy slumped down next to his brother, spreading his arms and legs out. They were both dressed in bath robes from one of the cupboards in their room. Murphy had just taken a shower and helped Connor wash with a cloth. The generator allowed for some hot water and it was pure bliss. Not that they’d often had warm water in the Irish quarters in Boston but that only meant they’d come to appreciate it even more. “Yeah, this is heaven. Ah liked our room in Boston, though.” He turned around to face Connor and smiled. “Even though you always left yer socks lying around.”

“O that’s only me now, huh?”

“Honestly though”, Murphy propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Connor. “How’re you feelin’? Haven’t had a chance to talk up to now, bein’ worried about Daryl’n all.”

What d’you mean? Got shot, got burnt, got beaten but it’s healing and I’ll be fine. End of story.”

“Castiel said that Sam’s still really out of it. Because of things Lazarus said to him. He try to get to you too?”

Connor sighed. “Yer my shrink now?”

“’m yer brother. I’m everything to you.”

Connor put his arm over his eyes and yawned. “Stupid fucker said a lot of crazy stuff. Didn’t even listen to half of it.”

“What’d he talk about?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Kept going on about sin and hellfire and damnation like he’d know shit about it. Don’t think he knew even one verse from the bible by heart.”  
Murphy snorted.

“Talked about us a helluva lot”, Connor said, looking at Murphy. “Said what we’re doin’ is wrong.”

“The old yaddayadda about not bein’ with yer brother?”

“Exactly.”

“That was nothin’ new then.” 

“That’s what I’m sayin’.” Connor took his arm down from his face and looked at Murphy. “Seriously. Don’t worry about me. I know who I am and I know you’ll always be my brother. That’s enough fer me to be alright in this world, come what may. And some stupid fuck talking crazy shit ain’t gonna change that.”

Murphy smiled. “Let’s just hope Sam can get over it soon.”

“Hell yeah. Wanna blow me?”

Murphy took the pillow from under his elbow and slapped Connor’s face with it softly. “D’you ever think of anything else?”

Connor pondered the question for a moment. “Apart from the bible and shooting? Not much.” He moved the bathrobe out of the way, revealing his already hard cock. “You?”

“Same here”, Murphy said, moving down to kiss Connor’s navel. “You sure you’re up to this?”

“I’m up alright, can’t you see?”

Murphy put both hands on his brother’s hips to hold him down when he moved forward to take his erection deep into his mouth. Connor was damn right. He’d wanted this too. He took his sweet time pleasuring Connor and he tried really hard not to rile him up too much and keep it gentle. The fresh bandages around Connor’s torso and thigh reminded him too much of the fact how badly wounded his brother had been only days ago. 

He sighed contentedly when Connor came deep in his throat, calling out Murphy’s name. He loved his taste so much. Afterwards Connor insisted on getting him off and Murphy buried his head to his brother’s neck while he gave him a much needed handjob. Orgasm surged through his veins like quicksilver and his hands clenched into the cottony fabric of Connor’s bath robe. 

“Fuck that was good”, he sighed when he rolled on his back. “Thanks bro.”

Connor turned to face him and they both cuddled up to each other to go to sleep.


End file.
